the beginning is the end is the beginning
by TessaStarDean
Summary: Following Haley's death, Hotch has to hire someone to look after his son while he's away. Both father and son have to learn how to let people into their lives again. Hotch, Jack, OC, and the rest of the team will make appearances.
1. duty

***A/N* A couple of things. First off, for the purposes of this story, Haley was killed sometime at the end of summer. Also, in this AU, Jessica was unable to take care of Jack. All recognizable characters from Criminal Minds do not belong to me, but the nanny most certainly does. Each part is written to a prompt from 64damnprompts. Enjoy!***

Watching his friend, Rossi didn't miss the sigh that escaped him. Or the other seventeen he had let out since they had boarded the plane.

"Alright," he said. "Out with it."

Hotch turned to look at him. "Out with what?"

"Whatever is making you sigh like a sixteen year old girl."

The other man glared. "I've got some things on my mind."

"Hence the question."

It was obvious that Dave wasn't going to let this go, and Hotch sighed again.

"Jessica and I have been talking about getting Jack a nanny."

Rossi's eyebrows rose slightly at that. "A live-in?"

He nodded.

"It makes sense," Dave observed.

"It's the only way I can keep Jack and my job," he said quietly.

"And you can't give up either of them. They make up who you are." His eyes narrowed. "But you're apprehensive."

"About having someone living in my house and taking care of my son? Yes, actually."

"That's what the interview process is for, Aaron. You find someone that makes you comfortable -"

"We need someone now, Dave. And we just got called out on another case."

"So...?"

Hotch sighed. "So Jessica is picking someone."

"And therein lies the rub. You lose all the control."

He stared out the window of the plane. "I trust Jessica."

"I know that. But I also know that that isn't the same as getting a say in the person who's going to be looking after Jack." Dave paused, watching his friend carefully. "And it doesn't change the fact that you're going to have to let someone into your life."

Hotch gave him a rueful smile. "We both know that's not something I'm particularly good at."

"You get better with time."

"I haven't."

"Maybe because no one's forced you to." Rossi shifted in his seat, leaning forward slightly. "Look, Hotch...I know that things have been almost impossible for you in the last couple of months. Understandably so. But Jack needs his father, and he needs a home, and he needs someone to look after him. Most two parent households have trouble meeting those needs, and you're a working single father. Give whoever Jessica picks a chance - they might surprise you."

"Meaning?"

Dave smirked at him. "Don't freeze them out just because they're new. And don't get rid of them right away just because you're uncomfortable having someone living in your house that you don't know well. Get to know them. See how they interact with Jack. If he's happy, and they're trustworthy, you've got a good thing." He leaned back. "When will she pick?"

"She's doing the interviews tomorrow. If she finds someone she likes..." He shrugged.

"It'll work out, Hotch. You can have the job _and_ Jack."

Aaron let his gaze drift out the window again. "I really hope so," he said quietly.


	2. color

Cara rang the doorbell and then tugged her shirt down a couple of times before forcing her hands to her sides. Worries nagged at her in hushed tones in the back of her mind, but the voice belonged to someone she hadn't spoken to in months, and she shoved it out of her thoughts.

The door in front of her opened, and she smiled at the woman standing in front of her.

"Jessica?" When she nodded, Cara stuck her hand out. "Cara Roberts."

They shook hands, and Jessica stepped aside to let her in. "It's nice to meet you."

"You too." Cara looked around, taking in the tidy efficiency of the home. There were toys around, but they seemed to all be where they belonged. Fruit in a basket on the counter, and a little boy's shoes on the mat next to the door; living room, kitchen and dining room all open to each other. It felt like a safe place to grow up in. "You have a lovely home," she observed.

Jessica smiled. "It's not mine, but thank you. Jack and his father live here." She tilted her head slightly. "It's complicated."

Cara chuckled, familiar with the words and tone. "Complicated as in something you don't want to talk about?"

"Complicated as in, I'll explain after we've talked a little."

"Sounds like a deal."

"Would you like some tea?"

"That would be great. Thank you."

She took a seat on one of the stools at the counter while Jessica put on some water. Her fingers idly scratched at the nails on the opposite hand for a moment before she realized what she was doing and laced her fingers together.

"Milk and sugar?"

Cara nodded. "Yes, please."

"So," Jessica said as she waited for the water to boil. "Marissa tells me that you took care of her children while they were in daycare."

A smile bloomed immediately. "Yeah. Jared and Justin. Adorable boys."

"How long were you there?"

"Six years."

"And you liked it?"

Cara thought for a moment, choosing her words carefully. "I liked the kids. I didn't enjoy the politics."

Jessica frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Most kids were there every single day, from seven or eight in the morning until closing. That's a lot of hours with them. It was a parental role, but without any authority or foundation to stand on. Because…at the end of the day, they went home with their parents. And whatever you taught them would be undermined in the space of a couple of hours. And you had to start all over again the next morning."

"That sounds very frustrating." The teapot shrieked behind her, and she turned to finish the tea. "Is that why you left?"

Cara nodded. "One of the reasons, anyway. The administration wasn't very helpful. You weren't ever allowed to be honest with the parents about their child's behavior because the boss was afraid of negativity." Jessica handed her a cup. "Thank you."

"So you moved into nannying?"

"Not right away. I wasn't sure what I was going to do next. But then I saw an ad asking for a nanny. It started as one night a week, and as their family grew, I was there twenty, thirty hours a week. And I realized that I loved kids, and I loved being a part of the family. It works better for the kids when everyone is running on the same page."

Jessica nodded, taking a long sip from her cup. "Like I said before, this is a complicated family," she said slowly.

Cara narrowed her eyes. "How so?"

Looking down at the counter, the other woman ran her hand over the marble for a moment, obviously not completely comfortable with the conversation. Cara wanted to tell her that it was alright, that they didn't have to talk about it, but she knew that they did. If she was going to be working with this family, she was going to need to at least know the basics. Finally, Jessica took a deep breath and looked back up.

"Jack's mother…my sister…she died. A couple of months ago."

Cara had been imagining something much more complicated…and much less tragic. Her expression softened with her voice. "I'm so sorry."

"It's been hard. For everyone. She and Aaron were divorced, but…he's still grieving. And I'm not entirely sure he always knows that."

"And Jack?" she asked gently.

Jessica's smile was sad. "He's quiet. I think he gets that from his father. But he lived with Haley, so he and Aaron are still adjusting to each other. At first Jack wouldn't sleep anywhere but his father's bed. But he's made it almost a week in his own room, now. It's slow, but I think he's getting better."

Cara nodded. "And now that things are starting to settle again, you have to find someone to take care of Jack."

"Exactly." She took a deep breath. "I have to be honest. I'm not entirely comfortable with this…someone else coming in, taking care of Jack. But when it comes down to it, they both need someone to look after them. Otherwise…I'm not sure they're going to make it." She looked directly at Cara, her eyes heavy with tears. "This is not going to be an easy job. It's not just being a nanny. It's…it's being part of the family."

Cara's heart broke for the woman in front of her. She was carrying so much – the grief of losing her sister, the burden of trying to care for Aaron and Jack, and the pain of her perceived failure. Reaching out, she gently took her hand.

"I won't sit here and promise you that I can fix them. But I can promise to do everything I can to help them. I can promise to take care of them."

Wiping at her eyes, she let out a breathy chuckle. "You know, I've talked to four other women before you, and you're the only one that's made me feel even remotely okay about this." She paused. "I'd like you to the take the job, if you're still interested."

Cara smiled. "I'm definitely interested."

"Good. We still have some things to work out…mostly the background check. I already did a basic one, but Aaron will want to do the most thorough one he can. But he works with people who do that for a living, so it shouldn't take long. Any chance you can start Monday?"

She thought about it for a moment. "Yeah, I think I can swing that. I need to get back up to New England and get my stuff."

Jessica frowned. "What do you mean?"

"I'm here on vacation. I ran into Marissa at the mall, and she asked if I was interested in a potential job down here."

"I knew that you were from up north, but I thought you had moved down here."

Cara shrugged. "Not yet. I think the change of scenery will do me good, though," she said quietly.

Jessica watched her for a moment longer and then nodded. "I'm glad. Come on, I'll show you around the house, where your room will be –"

"Aunt Jessie?"

Both women turned at the new voice, and Cara smiled as she finally saw Jack Hotchner. His hair was sticking up in odd places, and he was rubbing the sleep from his eyes even as he yawned. She watched as Jessica went over to him immediately, squatting down in front of him.

"Hey sweetheart. Have a good nap?"

He nodded. "I'm hungry."

"You can have a snack in a minute." She tugged his shirt down a little. "Do you remember how we talked about nannies?"

"They take care of you while Daddy's at work."

She smiled. "That's right."

"Did you find me one?"

She nodded and stood up, taking his hand as he led her over to Cara. The younger woman slid off the stool and crouched down.

"Hi Jack," she said softly. "My name is Cara."

He watched her carefully, obviously weighing her in his mind. "You gonna live with me and Daddy?"

"If that's okay with you."

He paused again. "Do you like Scooby Doo?"

Her smile grew. "I do."

"Who's your favorite?"

"Hmmm." She tapped her chin. "Scooby."

"Why?"

She could tell that the answer mattered to him. "Well…Velma is smart, but sometimes she's too smart. And Fred trusts too many people." She shrugged. "Daphne just kind of bugs me."

"What about Shaggy?"

"I like Shaggy. But maybe sometimes I feel like Shaggy, and I want a friend like Scooby. That's why I think Scoob is my favorite."

"Shaggy is my favorite," he said.

"And they're good friends."

Jack nodded. "Best friends." He reached out and took hold of her thumb. "Do you like to color?"

"I love to color."

"Maybe we could color in my Scooby Doo book and Aunt Jessie could make us a snack."

Cara grinned, surprised by the tears pricking the back of her eyes at this little boy's acceptance of her. "I'd really like that, Jack."


	3. tragedy

"It's a little late to be making a phone call."

Hotch looked up to see Rossi standing in the doorway of the conference room. Everyone else had disappeared to the bar or their respective hotel rooms, and that had been what he was counting on. But somehow Dave was always able to sniff out when something was going on with him. It was what made him a good profiler in the first place.

Sighing, he waved him in. "I won't waste my time asking you to leave it be. So you might as well come in and close the door."

Dave frowned, but shut the door and came further into the room. "Who are you calling?"

"Garcia."

"Didn't we just get off the phone with her...?"

"This isn't about the case."

He dialed a number and then put the phone on speaker, crossing his arms as it rang.

"Supreme Goddess of all things you need to know."

"Garcia, it's Hotch."

"Yes, sir."

"Did you have time to look into her?"

Rossi's eyebrow shot up, but he didn't say anything.

"Yes, sir," Penelope responded. "Do you want every last detail or just the basics?"

"Can I have something in between?"

He could almost hear the smile in her voice. "Of course. Cara Jean Roberts, born May 3, 1976 in Rockland, Maine. Her last name used to be Morrow, but she changed it when she was eighteen."

Hotch frowned. "Married?"

"Nope. Name change must have been for something else. Might have had something to do with her mother's death the year before."

"What happened?"

"Um, the two of them were in the car, mom behind the wheel. Looks like the car went off the road and down a small ravine...Oh God."

"Garcia?"

"I'm sending the pic to your phone."

Hotch pulled out his cell phone as Dave came up to stand beside him. It was only a minute before it beeped, telling him that he had a picture. Opening the attachment, his frown deepened as he saw the crumpled SUV wedged between two trees.

"Her mother was dead before the paramedics even got there," Garcia said quietly. "Cara was pretty banged up, but she walked herself out of the ravine and flagged down a passing car."

"Hell," Rossi muttered.

For a minute, Hotch just stared down at the picture. The car was mangled beyond belief, every window shattered, and the front end almost completely gone. It was a miracle that the teenager had survived at all, and almost a statistical impossibility that she could walk away from it. But somehow she had, leaving her dead mother behind as she hauled herself back to the road.

It would take an incredible will and strength of determination.

"Sir?"

He shook himself out of his thoughts, closing the phone and putting it back in his pocket. "What happened after that?"

There was a slight pause, and they could hear the tapping of keys.

"Well, you would think she'd go live with her father, but she went to court and got legally emancipated. I can't get into the record without a warrant, though."

Hotch let that pass. "Anything else?"

"I can tell you that she's never been arrested, never even gotten a speeding ticket. She's got a bachelor's degree in Elementary Education from Boston University." Garcia paused. "She's clean, sir."

Hotch nodded. "Thank you, Penelope."

"Anything for my super agents," she quipped before hanging up.

Dave crossed his arms, leaning against the table. "I take it Jessica picked someone."

Hotch nodded, mirroring his pose. "There wasn't even a debate. One interview with this woman, and she made her choice."

"That alone speaks highly of her."

"I know." He sighed, rubbing his forehead. "I'm not ready for this."

"And I don't think you will be until you have to be. This is happening, Aaron. You just have to decide how you're going to deal with it." He paused. "She sounds like a hell of a woman. One that might be able to understand Jack's loss better than most."

Hotch nodded. "I thought of that."

"She might be a good friend for you, too."

The faintest smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Let's not rush things."

"Of course not." He clapped Hotch on the shoulder. "Come on. Both of us could use some sleep."

Flipping off the lights, he followed his friend out the door.


	4. 2 am

***A/N: The song is "How I Go" by Yellowcard***

****************

Jessica hesitated in the doorway, one hand resting around the frame as she looked back into the house again.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I don't think I realized how hard this would be."

Cara gave her a soft smile. "You can stay longer if you want. I'm not kicking you out."

For a second, she thought the other woman would take her up on the offer. But then she took a deep breath and shook her head. "He's going to have to get used to this, too. I should go. Let you guys start to find a routine."

"It'll be okay, Jessica. I promise."

"You can call me Jessie."

"What?"

She shrugged. "We'll be seeing a lot of each other, and I prefer Jessie to Jessica."

Cara nodded in understanding. "Jessie." Glancing up the stairs for a moment, she turned back. "You could come over for lunch tomorrow. See how we're doing."

Jessica sighed, giving her a grateful smile. "I'd really like that."

"Good. We'll have a picnic, go to the park."

"Definitely." She let out a nervous chuckle. "If I don't get out of here now, you'll be stuck with me all night. And you need time to get settled in." Taking a deep breath, she let go of the door. "You'll call me if you have any problems?"

"Absolutely."

Jessica nodded. "I'll see you guys tomorrow."

"Goodnight, Jessie," Cara said quietly.

The older woman glanced up the stairs one more time and then nodded again. "Goodnight."

As soon as she had the door shut, Cara made sure to lock the door, throwing the dead bolt as well. She had taken care of enough children to know that the parents always waited for that sound, needing to know that their sons and daughters were walled away from the shadows. Turning, she made her way across the kitchen and living room until she was standing at the large picture window, and she watched Jessie climb into her car.

She was used to parents who couldn't let go. Parents who worried the whole night through, unable to believe that their children were actually safe. But this was an entirely new situation for her. This family had lost so much, and the wounds hadn't even had a chance to start healing over yet. And yet Jessie and Aaron were expected to get on with their lives, to go back to work, to leave the most important person in their lives in the care of someone else.

Cara knew that she couldn't heal their wounds. But she could do everything in her power to ease their mind about leaving Jack. She could convince them that he was safe with her, give them one less thing to worry about.

Outside, Jessica finally put the car in reverse and pulled out of the driveway. Cara raised her hand to wave and watched as the other woman disappeared down the street.

Letting the curtain fall back into place, she turned and looked around the room. That fact that she lived there now hadn't felt real until Jessie left, and now the weight of it settled down around her shoulders. She knew better than to get comfortable right away – she hadn't even met Aaron Hotchner yet. There was every chance that he might not like her, and she didn't want to unpack her things only to have to put them all back in the boxes.

She checked the door once more, and then flipped off the lights before she turned to the stairs, climbing them slowly as she made her way to her room. Pausing in the doorway , Cara looked in on Jack across the hallway, smiling at the way he was sprawled across his bed.

"Goodnight, Jack," she whispered.

* * *

Cara never slept well in new places. Every house had its own sounds, and her ears picked up every single one of them, keeping her from sleep just as it began to drag her away. Eventually, though, exhaustion won out, and she slipped into a light doze.

Until she realized that the yelling she was hearing wasn't coming from her dream.

She flew out of bed, not bothering with her slippers as she shot across the hall. By the time she got there, Jack had stopped shouting, but he was sitting up in his bed, shoulders shaking as he cried. Without even thinking about it, she went to him, gathering him up in her arms.

"Shhh," she whispered. "It's okay." She rocked him softly, running a hand through his hair. "It's okay, Jack."

He clung to her, his fingers tangling in her tank top. But he didn't speak. So Cara just held him tightly, waiting for his tears to subside.

"Did you have a bad dream?" she asked quietly when his breathing had evened out.

He nodded. "There was a bad man."

"Do you wanna talk about it?" He shook his head immediately, almost violently, and Cara rubbed his back. "That's okay. I don't always want to talk about my dreams, either."

Jack pulled back slightly and looked up at her. "You have bad dreams?"

"Sometimes." She gave him a sad smile. "Maybe someday you could tell me about your dreams, and I could tell you about mine. Sound like a deal?"

He nodded, but she could tell that he was still upset. She was being honest about having nightmares of her own, and she knew how hard it could be to fall back asleep. Glancing around the room, she tried to think of some way to set his mind at ease. After a moment, she looked back at him with a smile.

"You know what keeps the bad dreams away?" she asked. When he shook his head, her smile widened. "Songs."

Jack frowned. "How?"

Cara shrugged. "I'm not really sure. But the bad dreams don't like the songs, and they have a hard time coming back."

He looked up at her, his eyes hopeful. "Could you sing me a song?"

"Of course," she said gently. "Lay back down." He did as she asked, and she tucked him in. "Any particular song?"

He shook his head. "You pick."

She just went with the song stuck in her head, glad that it was something soft. Reaching out, she brushed the hair back from his forehead.

_I could tell you the wildest of tales  
My friend the giant and traveling sales  
Tell you all the times that I failed  
The years all behind me the stories exhaled._

And I'm drying out  
Crying out  
This isn't how I go

I could tell you of a man not so tall  
Who said life's a circus and so we are small  
Tell you of a girl that I saw  
I froze in the moment and she changed it all

And I'm drying out  
Crying out  
This isn't how I go  
Hurry now  
Lay me down  
And let these waters  
Flow, flow

Jack's eyes were sliding shut before she'd even finished the first chorus. But she kept singing, pulling her legs up until she was sitting cross-legged, her fingers still brushing through his hair.

_Son I am not everything  
You thought that I would be  
But every story I have told  
Is part of me_

She didn't know his father yet, but she knew it couldn't be easy to have a son and do the job that he did. Jessie had told her that Aaron and Jack were still getting used to each other, still learning about each other, and it wasn't difficult to surmise that Jack's mother had been the one to take care of him most of the time. But that didn't mean that there was any less love from Aaron's side – fathers weren't always distant by choice.

_You keep the air in my lungs  
Floating along as a melody comes  
And my heart beats like timpani drums  
Keeping the time while a symphony strums_

Vaguely, Cara wished that she had someone there to do the harmony part with her. It floated through the back of her mind, though, and she made a mental note to let Jack listen to the song tomorrow.

_And I'm drying out  
Crying out  
This isn't how I go  
Hurry now  
Lay me down  
And let these waters  
Flow…  
Flow  
Let it flow_

Son I am not everything  
You thought that I would be  
But every story I have told  
Is part of me  
Son I leave you now but you have so much more to do  
And every story I have told is part of you

She held out the last note, smiling when she saw that he was fast asleep. Tucking the covers around him one more time, she leaned over and kissed his forehead.

"Sleep well, Jack," she whispered.

Glancing back over her shoulder at him as she left the room, she wished that all nightmares went away so easily.


	5. door

He stared at the phone in his hands, flipping it open and closed. He always called Jack while he was away on a case, needing to hear his voice, to make sure that he was safe. But he hadn't done that yet this trip, and he knew where his trepidation lie. There was someone in his house, taking care of his son...someone he hadn't yet met. He knew her background, knew what she looked like on paper, but he didn't know her. And he would have to speak with her before he could speak to Jack.

He could almost hear Rossi's voice in his head, telling him to stop being such a pansy.

Taking a deep breath, he dialed the number and brought the phone to his ear. It was picked up on the second ring, and he suddenly found his mouth to be painfully dry.

"Hello?"

Closing his eyes briefly, he cleared his throat. "Cara? This is Aaron Hotchner."

She froze, caught off-guard by the call. "Oh. Hi, Mr. Hotchner."

He almost winced. "Please. Call me Aaron or Hotch. Mr. Hotchner just makes me feel...old."

She chuckled at that, the sound easy and natural. "Hotch."

"Has...has Jack gone to bed yet?"

He heard muffled voices and then she was back. "He's just climbing in now. Do you want to talk to him?"

"Yes, please."

"Hang on."

There was another moment of muted sounds, and then his son's voice was bright on the other end.

"Hi, Daddy!"

Hotch felt himself smile. "Hey, buddy. You all ready for bed?"

He could almost see Jack nodding the way he did whenever someone asked him a question on the phone. "Yep. Cara's gonna read me a story first, though."

"Really? What story?"

"Something about a lion and a witch and...some other word I don't 'member."

He chuckled. "The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe?"

"That's the one! Do you know it?"

"I do. It's a very good story." He cleared his throat again, wording his next question carefully. "Are you two having a good time?"

"We have lots of fun! We go to the park, and the library, and we had lunch with Aunt Jessie..."

"Sounds like you guys do a lot."

"She's my friend."

His words stuck in his throat, and Hotch had to swallow them down hard. He could hear it in Jack's voice - he needed a friend, and Cara was giving him something that he and Jessica hadn't been able to provide.

"I'm glad, buddy," he said softly.

"When are you coming home? Did you catch the bad guy yet?"

"Yeah, we did. I'll be home tomorrow."

"Good. I miss you, Daddy."

"I miss you too."

"And you need to meet Cara. She's nice, and she makes really good pancakes."

Hotch laughed, running one hand over his eyes. "She sounds great. But for now you need to get some sleep, okay?"

"Okay. Love you, Daddy."

"Love you, Jack. Put Cara back on."

There was a moment's pause, and then a slight shuffle. "Hello?"

"He speaks very highly of you."

He could hear the smile in her voice. "You have a wonderful son, Hotch."

"Thank you. I'll...I'll be home tomorrow some time. I have paperwork that needs to be done in the office, but I should be home for dinner."

"Good." She paused, and he realized that she must have been nervous as well. "So we'll see you then."

"Yes. I'm looking forward to meeting you in person."

"Same here. Sleep well, Hotch."

"Good night," he replied quietly.

He listened to the silence long after she hung up, staring out the window of his hotel room. He should have been happy that Jack had someone to play with, someone to take care of him all day. But he couldn't ignore the empty feeling growing in his stomach, or the way he felt even more removed from the only family he had left.

Sighing, he tossed the phone on the nightstand.

* * *

Hotch stared at the door. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he wondered if he should knock, despite the fact that it was his own home. Shaking his head, he pulled out his key and stuck it in the lock, trying to push down the doubts and fears plaguing him.

She was in the kitchen, working at the stove as she bopped her head to the music floating out of the living room. Her light brown hair was swept up in a ponytail, and he noticed that she was quite tall, even in her bare feet. Toes painted a dark color, she sung along with the poppy tune. His greeting died on his lips as he watched her, taking in this woman that had already won over Jack's heart.

There was a little rumble on the stairs, and then his son was barreling towards him, and he had to drop his briefcase to catch him. He swept Jack up into his arms, the smile on his face automatic as they embraced.

"You're home!"

"And I'm very happy to be here." He looked up to see that Cara had turned to face them, wiping her hands on a towel as she gave him an anxious smile. He extended his hand. "You must be Cara."

She nodded, shaking his hand and biting her bottom lip for a moment. "And you must be Hotch."

"This is my daddy," Jack said proudly.

Her smile grew as she looked at Hotch. "Jack has told me a lot about you."

"Good things, I hope."

She laughed, trying to ease some of the tension out of her body. "For the most part." Gesturing toward the kitchen, she moved back to the stove. "Dinner is almost ready."

His eyebrows rose. "You didn't have to do that."

"Trust me, it wasn't a problem." She smiled down at Jack. "Besides, I have an awesome helper."

"Me an' Daddy will set the table," he offered.

"That would be a huge help," she said, tapping him lightly on the nose.

Hotch watched his son as the two of them went around setting the table. Barely even a week, and Jack was already obviously attached to Cara. He was smiling and laughing more than he had in the past couple of months, closer to how he had been before Haley died. He knew that the wounds weren't gone, that Jack was still grieving, but he couldn't shake the feeling that this was a huge step in the right direction.

"Perfect timing."

Setting the last fork down, he turned to see Cara walking in, a platter of chicken parmesan in her hands. It smelled delicious, and his stomach growled in response.

"Are we gonna pray?" Jack asked as they sat down.

The question caught him off-guard, and Hotch frowned. "What?"

Jack shrugged. "Cara prays like Mommy and Aunt Jessie."

She froze. "I'm sorry. I should have asked you first –"

He shook his head, waving her off. "Don't worry about it." Turning to Jack, he gave him a small smile. "Of course we can pray."

"You gonna say it, Jack?" Cara asked.

He nodded and reached out. "Gotta hold hands, Daddy."

He reached out without thinking, and then started slightly as Cara's hand slipped into his own. She was warm, and her fingers curled over his skin automatically.

"Dear God," Jack said, his head bowed. "Thank you for food and friends and family. And thank you for bringing Daddy home safe. Amen."

Both of his hands were squeezed as he murmured "Amen," and then Jack was excitedly telling him about his day. Putting an interested smile on his face, Hotch began to eat as he listened.

* * *

"I'm ready, Daddy!"

He looked up from the paper to see Jack coming into the living room, his Scooby Doo t-shirt almost covering the shorts he had underneath, and his Scooby Doo stuffed animal tucked under his arm.

"You're all ready for bed?"

Jack nodded. "Will you read to me?"

Hotch glanced up at Cara as she came down the stairs and headed for the kitchen. "If that's okay with you."

She smiled at him and nodded. "Of course. There's a bookmark where we left off last night."

Scooping Jack up into his arms, the two of them made their way up to his son's room. The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe rested on the table next to his bed, and Jack handed it to him as he crawled into bed.

"Sit next to me, Daddy."

He slipped off his shoes and sat next to him, smiling as Jack leaned against his arm so that he could see the book. It was an illustrated version he hadn't seen before, but the story came back to him quickly, and he soon found himself lost in Narnia with his son.

When the chapter was over, he placed the bookmark back in and then set the book on the table.

"Time to sleep, buddy," he said gently, noticing that his eyes were already beginning to slide down.

"Can Cara come in?" he asked.

Hotch frowned. "You want her to tuck you in?"

Jack shook his head. "She's gotta sing, Daddy. Keeps the bad dreams away."

Taking a deep breath, Hotch nodded and slid out of the bed. He stepped into the hall, catching Cara just as she came out of the bathroom.

"Jack wants you to sing to him," he said quietly, not meeting her eyes.

"Of course."

She moved past him into the bedroom, keeping her eyes focused on Jack. She hadn't even thought about the fact that she sang to him every night, and she had seen pain in Hotch's eyes when he asked her to come in. She didn't want to intrude on their time together, but she wasn't going to upset Jack, either. They would have to find a balance somehow. Refusing to look back at Hotch, she climbed up into the bed and took Jack's hand. Hotch stood in the doorway, watching as his son smiled up at her.

"You coming, Daddy?"

Shaking himself, he came in and perched himself at the foot of the bed. "I'm right here," he said quietly.

"What song do you want tonight, little man?" Cara asked.

"New one," Jack murmured, eyes sliding shut again.

She smiled and began to sing, trying to keep her nerves out and her voice steady. She pretended like she and Jack were the only ones in the room, that this was just another night of her chasing away his bad dreams. If this really bothered his father, they could talk about it after. Right now, she just needed to help Jack get to sleep.

Hotch stared at his son as he listened, Cara's words talking about leaving and remembering. Her voice was gentle, but he could tell she was softening it for Jack. Even without any music playing, she seemed to be perfectly on pitch, and he could see why her voice comforted him.

Eventually, the last note lingering, she finished her song, and Hotch could see that Jack was completely asleep. Cara kissed his forehead and then unfolded herself and climbed off the bed. Hotch mirrored her actions, shutting off the light and following her out of the room. Once they were in the hallway, he shut the door most of the way and turned to face her.

"He mentioned bad dreams…"

She wanted to smack herself in the head - she had meant to tell him about that. "Yeah. I didn't get a chance to say anything. The first night I was here he had a nightmare."

"Did he tell you what it was about?"

There was a sharpness in his voice, but his face was stoic. She caught the pain in his eyes again, and she realized that the hurt in this family ran far deeper than she realized. She shook her head. "No. But I told him that songs keep the bad dreams away. Seems to be working so far. If it bothers you -"

Hotch shook his head, turning away from her. "I've had a long day. I hope you don't mind if I go to bed early."

He barely even waited for her response before completely turning and heading towards his room. He could feel her eyes on his back, but he couldn't make himself turn or even say a proper goodnight.

Shutting the door behind him, the breath left him and his shoulders sagged. That had been even harder than he had imagined.


	6. stories

"Mornin', Daddy."

Hotch slowly opened one eye to find his son standing next to his bed, a book clutched against his chest. Glancing at the clock, he saw that it was just before seven, and the sun was streaming in his window.

"Morning," he replied, opening the other eye as well. "You okay?"

Jack nodded. "It's library day, Daddy."

"It is?"

He nodded again. "Cara said so. Thursdays are library day."

Hotch blinked. He had almost forgotten about the nanny, just for a minute. "Is Cara up?" he asked, sitting up slowly.

"Yep. She's makin' breakfast. I'm a-pposed to ask if you want pancakes."

At the mention of food, Hotch realized that he could smell something cooking in the kitchen, and his stomach growled. Giving his son a small smile, he pushed himself out of bed and picked Jack up.

"Pancakes sound great."

Cara didn't hear them come down the stairs, and they paused to watch her cooking. Her pony tail was high and messy, bouncing as she hummed and bobbed her head to the tune. Hotch couldn't help but notice how much younger she looked whenever there was music in the room. His house had been quiet for so long, and now it seemed like there was always a song playing somewhere.

"Cara!" Jack called.

His voice startled both of them, and Cara whipped around, letting out a small squeak when she saw Hotch standing there. Suddenly aware of the short shorts she was wearing, she swallowed hard, trying not to blush.

"Morning."

Hotch nodded at her, fighting a smile. "Good morning." Setting his son down, he walked further into the kitchen. "Jack informs me that not only is it library day, but there are also pancakes on the menu."

He had the most intense stare she had ever been faced with. "If that's okay with you," she said, trying to keep her voice steady. "We've been going to the library on –"

"Thursdays," he finished for her. "Jack explained it to me." He paused. "Just over a month, and you've got my son on a consistent schedule."

She frowned slightly. "Is that a bad thing?"

Hotch shook his head, but turned his attention to the stove. "Quite the opposite, actually. Do I have time to get dressed before breakfast?"

Cara checked the clock. "You've got about five minutes."

He nodded once and then turned to head back up the stairs. Cara watched him go, and then gave Jack a big smile before turning back to the stove. As she focused on the pancakes again, she shook her head – that man had the ability to completely unnerve her every time he stepped into the room. She wasn't sure if it was his eyes or his voice, but she was fairly certain that one of these days, he was going to give her a heart attack.

* * *

"I'm glad you decided to come with us," Cara said quietly as they followed Jack into the library. "He gets so excited every time you come home."

Hotch raised an eyebrow. "He does?"

She nodded, smiling at the fact that an FBI profiler could miss so much. "He does nothing but talk about you, you know. About how you catch bad guys and make the world safe. He calls you a superhero." She shrugged. "And whenever he knows you're coming home for dinner, he's all smiles and stories. It's adorable."

Jack turned to face them, his books from the week before in his arms. "Did you finish your book?" he asked Cara.

She smiled and squatted down in front of him. "I did. You gonna return it for me?"

Jack nodded and took the book from her before heading up to the librarian. With a shy smile, he hoisted all of the books onto the counter and then headed back, reaching for Cara's hand. Hotch felt something in his stomach knot painfully, but then his son was reaching for his hand as well, standing between them.

"Grown up books first?" he asked.

"Lead on, little man," she said.

Once they reached the stacks, Jack let go of their hands and wandered ahead a little, just running his fingers across the spines of the books. Hotch watched as Cara turned her attention to the books as well, but he noticed that her eyes continually drifted back to Jack. She was watchful, and he noted with some relief that she was only skimming the titles - most of her attention was on his son.

"I've noticed he loves books," she murmured, trying to break the silence. "Are you a book lover?"

"I don't have much time to read," he said slowly.

She nodded, still watching Jack as she bent down to pull a book off of the bottom shelf. "What about his mom?"

The air immediately turned cold, and Cara briefly shut her eyes, inwardly cursing herself. Jessie had a hard time talking about her sister - it only followed that it would cause Hotch pain as well. She opened her mouth to apologize.

"Yes," he answered stiffly, beating her to it.

"Hotch -"

"Did you find a book?" Jack asked, coming back towards them.

Biting back her apology, Cara smiled at the little boy. "Yep. Let's go find you some, okay?"

They moved over to the children's section, Jack prattling on about the kinds of books that he liked. Hotch tried to focus on his son, but he couldn't see or hear anything except Haley. He had done a good job lately of pushing her out of his mind, filling his time with work and worries about Jack. But now...seeing him interact so easily with another woman, accepting her into his heart...

He wasn't ready for this.

For her part, Cara couldn't stop kicking herself. The tension between her and Hotch was palpable now, and she was almost surprised that everyone in the building couldn't feel it. He wasn't rude - she got the feeling that he tried to be a gentleman more often than not - but he was completely closed off to her. He didn't meet her eyes, or turn his body towards her. Instead, he kept his gaze on Jack, and she could tell from his expression that his thoughts were far away - and not in a pleasant place.

Needing to change the subject, and needing to say anything to break the silence, she took a deep breath.

"I was wondering something." Hotch glanced over, and she took that as an invitation to continue. "Would it be okay if...if I took Jack to church with me on Sundays?" She hurried on. "If it's not, that's fine -"

"What kind of church?" he asked quietly.

"Baptist. American Baptist. We're pretty run-of-the-mill. Nothing scary."

Hotch nodded. "That would be fine."

Jack saved her from having to come up with anything else to say.

"Daddy, Daddy! Read me a book?" he asked, holding a few up.

Hotch smiled down at his son, and Cara noticed this time that it reached his eyes. The two of them moved over to a window, and Hotch sat down on the floor, Jack crawling into his lap. As his father opened one of the books, Jack looked up at her.

"Come on, Cara."

Smiling at them both, she came over and sat nearby, making sure to give them their space. Hotch glanced up at her for just a moment and then began to read, and Cara just watched them and listened to the story.


	7. believe

**A/N: It's short, but it needed to be :)**

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"No tie?" Jack asked, looking up at Cara as she helped him with the buttons of his shirt.

She shook her head. "I think we can save those for holidays and Communion."

"Mommy always made me wear a tie."

Glancing up, Cara tried to read his eyes, choosing her words carefully. "Do you want to wear one today?"

Jack shook his head. "I don't like them," he confessed.

She smiled at that, glad that he hadn't gotten upset at the mention of his mother. It hadn't taken Cara long to learn that Haley Hotchner was a taboo subject in the house, and she made a conscious effort to not ask questions. That didn't change the fact that she wanted to know what had happened to the woman, but she kept her curiosity to herself.

"Good," she said, finishing with Jack's shirt. "Maybe that means you won't wear them as much as your daddy does."

Jack frowned. "You don't like Daddy's ties?"

"I think your daddy just wears them too much."

The little boy nodded seriously. "Me too."

Running her fingers through his hair to straighten it, she stood up. "Ready to go?"

He reached up and took her hand. "Yep."

She had researched a lot of churches in the area until she found one that reminded her of home. It was only a fifteen minute drive, and when they pulled into the parking lot, she couldn't help but smile. It looked just like a New England Baptist church, even if it was further south.

"Do you remember what kind of church you went to before?" she asked as she helped Jack out of the car.

"A white one," he stated matter-of-factly.

Cara laughed. "That narrows it down."

They were met by greeters at the door and handed bulletins after a hearty 'Welcome.' People were standing in the aisles and sitting in the pews, turned so that they could talk to their neighbors. Cara shook her head kindly - it seemed Baptists were the same everywhere. She may not have known these people, but she had known people like them, and they instantly set her at ease.

"JJ!"

She looked down in surprise as Jack tugged at her hand, dragging her towards a pretty blonde woman with a young boy on her hip. The day after she met him, Hotch had insisted on sitting her down and giving her a list of people in Jack's life. He wanted to make sure that she knew who was trusted if they came to the door or called - and the face in front of her clicked with one of the photographs.

"Hi, JJ!" Jack greeted as they came closer.

The other woman smiled broadly and bent over. "Hey, Jack. What are you doing here?"

"Goin' to church, silly."

JJ chuckled at that and stood back up, extending her hand to Cara. "Jennifer Jareau. I work with Hotch."

Shifting Jack's grip to her other hand, Cara reached out as well. "Cara Roberts. Nice to meet you."

"Do you want to sit with us?"

Jack turned his face to look up at her. "Can we, Cara? Please?"

"Of course."

JJ led them into the pew, resting her hand on a good-looking man as they sat down. "This is Will," she introduced. "And this little guy," she said, looking down at the boy in her arms, "is our son, Henry."

Cara greeted both of them, giving Henry a big smile and tapping him gently on the nose, earning herself a giggle from him. JJ smiled at her son happily, before looking around and frowning slightly.

"Is Hotch here?"

Cara shook her head. "He's in the office."

JJ rolled her eyes. "That man needs to get out more."

"I'm starting to sense that."

"Cara?"

She looked down at Jack sitting between them, swinging his legs back and forth. "Yeah, sweetheart?"

"We're gonna pray, right?"

"Of course. You always pray in church."

"Good."

"Do you have something special you need to pray for?"

He shrugged, seeming to think about it. "Is praying like making a birthday wish?"

Cara frowned - she hadn't expected that one. "What do you mean?"

"If you tell someone a birthday wish, it won't come true."

Her smile returned, and she bent down a little so that their faces were closer. "That's not how prayers work, buddy. God hears you whenever you pray, and it's okay to tell other people." She shrugged, seeing that he still wasn't convinced. "Besides, if you tell me what you're praying for, maybe I can pray for it, too."

Jack scrunched up his face for a minute and then leaned over so that he could whisper in her ear. "I wanna pray for Daddy."

Cara felt tears pricking the backs of her eyes at the love he had for his father. "To keep him safe from the bad guys?" she whispered.

Jack nodded. "And the bad dreams."

She wasn't exactly surprised to hear that Aaron Hotchner had nightmares, considering the things he had to have seen on the job. It made her heart hurt, though, that it was something that father and son shared.

"Will you pray for him, too?" Jack asked, his eyes big as he looked up at her hopefully.

Cara nodded and squeezed his hand. "Of course."


	8. samson

**A/N: The song is "Samson" by Regina Spektor**

* * *

"So," Jessica started, taking a seat next to her on the park bench. "How's everything going?"

Cara smiled, glancing over at the woman beside her before moving her eyes back to where Jack was on the playground. "Everything's going fine."

Jessica rolled her eyes. "C'mon, Cara. I may love the Hotchner men, but I also know that they can be…trying, at times. This is the point where you get to be honest about it."

Cara took a sip of her hot chocolate, not saying anything at first. It wasn't that she distrusted Jessie, but she didn't exactly want everything going right back to Hotch, either.

"This stays between us?" she asked quietly.

Something knotted in Jessica's stomach, and she worried that Aaron had done something to upset the nanny. "Of course."

Cara gave her a small smile. "Everything really is going well. Jack and I get along great…I think he was looking for something steady to hold on to. We have a schedule of things we normally do, and he fell right into it, all smiles. He has nightmares sometimes, and he doesn't want to talk about them, but I can understand that. And it's not too hard to get him back to sleep." She gave a little shrug, choosing her words carefully. "Hotch could be…warmer."

She hadn't been totally unprepared for that one. "Has he been rude?"

"No. Just…distant. And not with Jack. He's great with him. But it's pretty obvious he's not comfortable with me in the house."

"It's not you," Jessica assured her. "It's the idea of someone taking care of his son, being there when he can't…I think he's afraid of how well you and Jack get along, that maybe…that maybe Jack will start to love you more than him."

"Jack adores his father. He's his hero."

"I know that. You know that. Most people who have ever met Jack know that. But Aaron…"

"Is terrified of not being good enough?"

Jessica looked over at her, eyes narrowing. "You're pretty good at reading people."

Cara shrugged, keeping her eyes locked on Jack. "It's a handy skill."

"I bet," she murmured. Letting that drop for the time being, she smiled, turning to watch her nephew. "Give Aaron time. Eventually he'll see that you're a blessing to them. I'm not saying he'll be warm, or fuzzy, or – God forbid – start _smiling_, but…it'll get easier for the two of you."

Cara wasn't so sure, but she nodded anyway, giving Jessie a smile. "I know."

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She was dreaming again. She knew it, just like she knew it every other time she found herself staring at a mangled SUV crunched against a tree. Cold rain pelted her, soaking through her clothes, her skin, dragging her hair down as it hung around her shoulders.

She could hear the radio from the car. Jim Croce's voice drifted in between the raindrops, filling her head and forcing her back into memory. Her mom driving, knuckles white against the steering wheel as her daughter simply leaned her forehead against her window staring out as she sang softly under her breath.

The song changed.

And then there was screaming.

Her eyes snapped open, and Cara realized that she was shaking, though not from the dream. A pair of little hands were pressed into her arm, and Jack was whispering urgently.

"Cara!"

Pushing away her dream, she sat up slightly. "What's wrong?"

"Daddy's havin' a nightmare."

Cara frowned, but in the silence of the house, she could hear muffled moans coming from down the hall. Swinging her legs off of the bed, she sat up, reaching for her bathrobe.

"I tried to wake him," Jack said. "But he wouldn't open his eyes."

"Okay," Cara said, getting up and leading Jack back to his room. "Let's get you back to bed, and then I'll go take care of your daddy, okay?"

He looked up at her hopefully as he climbed into bed and let her tuck him in. "Can you make his bad dreams go away like you do for me?"

"I'm gonna try."

He kissed her cheek and laid back down. "Thank you," he whispered.

Placing a soft kiss on his forehead, she walked out of the room, shutting the door most of the way behind her. She ran a hand through her hair as she stared down the hall, taking a minute to think.

She didn't want to intrude. She didn't want to make him even more uncomfortable. But she also couldn't just leave him be, not while Jack was there and listening. Taking a deep breath, she moved down the hall quietly. She paused again at the door before pushing it open slowly and stepping into Hotch's bedroom.

He was most definitely having a nightmare. The comforter had been kicked to the floor, and the top sheet was tangled around his legs, restricting his movements. A sheen of sweat covered his forehead, and his head moved every few seconds as he let out another pained groan.

Cara didn't want to wake him. She knew that waking up right after a bad dream was what caused you to remember it, and she didn't want this one plaguing him. Sitting gingerly on the edge of his bed, she reached out and rested her hand on his. He didn't wake up, and she gained more confidence, leaning forward and wiping his brow gently with her free hand. His forehead creased, but he still didn't open his open his eyes.

Taking a deep breath, she made her voice as soft as possible.

_You are my sweetest downfall  
I loved you first, I loved you first  
Beneath the stars came fallin' on our heads  
But they're just old light, they're just old light  
Your hair was long when we first met_

_Samson came to my bed_  
_Told me that my hair was red_  
_Told me I was beautiful and came into my bed_  
_Oh I cut his hair myself one night_  
_A pair of dull scissors in the yellow light_  
_And he told me that I'd done alright_  
_And kissed me 'til the mornin' light, the mornin' light_  
_And he kissed me 'til the mornin' light_

_Samson went back to bed_  
_Not much hair left on his head_  
_Ate a slice of wonderbread and went right back to bed_  
_Oh, we couldn't bring the columns down_  
_Yeah we couldn't destroy a single one_  
_And history books forgot about us_  
_And the bible didn't mention us, not even once_

_You are my sweetest downfall_  
_I loved you first_

Cara continued to run her hand over his forehead even after she finished singing. Most people didn't realize it, but what worked to comfort kids, usually worked with adults as well. A warm meal, a glass of milk, the feeling of someone watching over you…people just wanted to feel safe.

Glancing down at Hotch, she smiled. The pain in his face had eased up, and his breathing deepened, and she knew that he had sunk into a deeper sleep. Hopefully his nightmares wouldn't reach him there.

Standing up, she left the room as quietly as she had come in, shutting the door most of the way behind her. She checked on Jack again as well, and saw that he had fallen back asleep, sprawled across his bed on top of his covers. Cara shook her head and smiled, heading back to her own room. She paused at the doorway, images from her own dreams floating back.

Turning, she headed for the kitchen. Maybe a glass of milk would help ease her mind, as well.


	9. invitation

**A/N: I'm thrilled to see so many people favoriting this story and getting alerts for it. Don't forget that a comment/review here and there would be welcome as well. But regardless, I hope you continue to enjoy :D**

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Hotch almost growled in frustration when he found himself once again humming. He wasn't one to get songs stuck in his head, but this one just wouldn't leave. None of the words would come to mind. He couldn't remember where he had heard it, but he had been carrying it around with him for the past couple of weeks.

"What's the matter, Daddy?" Jack asked, looking up from his eggs.

Hotch turned around, giving his son a small smile as he ruffled his hair. "Nothing, buddy. Just got a song stuck in my head."

Jack nodded wisely. "Samson."

His smile faltered slightly. "What?"

"The song. That's the name."

"You know it?"

"Of course. It's the one Cara sings to you."

That made him freeze, and he stared at Jack. "What do you mean?"

Taking a big sip of orange juice, Jack shrugged, looking a little nervous. "Well...you were havin' nightmares and I couldn't make you open your eyes. So I went and got Cara."

A cold knot formed in the pit of his stomach.

"She sang to you. Like she does for me. And your bad dreams go away."

Hotch knew that he had nightmares. They had gotten bad after Foyet's attack. Worse since Haley's death. But he didn't realize that Jack knew about them. And now apparently Cara did as well.

He opened his mouth, not quite knowing what he was going to say, but then Cara came down the stairs, a bright smile on her face.

"Morning!"

He only nodded at her and turned away, finding it impossible to meet her eyes.

"I made some coffee," she continued, "if you want some -"

Hotch shook his head. "No, thank you." He walked over and kissed the top of Jack's head. "I'll be home tonight."

He walked out without another word or backward glance. Cara watched him go, inwardly sighing. It didn't seem like there was any way for her to break the ice with him.

She made sure there was a warm smile on her face as she turned back to Jack.

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"Out with it," Rossi sighed as he flopped into the chair.

Hotch looked up from his paperwork. "Out with what?"

"With whatever's bugging you. I can read you like a book, Aaron."

Hotch glanced up at the door, making sure that it was shut. Looking back down at the files on his desk, he struggled with getting the words out. He knew that he could trust Dave, that in fact, Dave was the closest friend he had. But opening up still didn't come easy for him - he wondered if it ever would.

"I sometimes...I still have nightmares. About Foyet." He didn't look up as he spoke.

Rossi nodded. "That's completely understandable. Normal, even."

"I know. It's not the dreams that are the problem. This morning...I found out that Jack knows about them. Apparently he's woken up and been unable to wake me." Hotch took a deep breath. "And he went to get Cara."

"That must have been a little awkward."

Hotch shook his head. "She didn't wake me up."

He frowned. "Then what -?"

"Jack says she sang to me."

Silence fell over them as Dave just stared at him, surprise clear in his eyes.

"Wow," he finally breathed.

Hotch nodded. "Yeah."

"Do you remember anything about that night? The dreams?"

"No."

"Has it happened since?"

"I don't know. I didn't get a chance to ask him before she came downstairs."

Dave stared at him for a moment. "And now you're even more uncomfortable around her."

Hotch shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "I'm not entirely comfortable with the idea of her knowing -"

"What?" his friend broke in. "That you have demons? News flash, Aaron. She lives under the same roof. She's gonna find out." He shook his head. "Have you tried getting to know her at all yet?"

"No."

Rossi sighed. "That's not gonna fly if you want to make this work. And you know that. You've said it yourself - she's done a wonderful job with Jack. And it sounds like she's taking care of you, too. Despite the fact that you've been less than friendly towards her."

Hotch met his gaze, tossing his pen down onto the desk. "I'm not sure where to start," he admitted quietly.

"Why don't you invite her to dinner tonight?"

"What?"

"Prentiss and I were hoping to grab some people for dinner after work. We could all use the break. Maybe Jessica could watch Jack and the four of us could go out."

Hotch frowned. "You don't think that would make her feel uncomfortable?"

Rossi shrugged. "Does she seem particularly shy?"

"Not that I can tell."

"It'll give her a chance to get to know you a little better, and to meet some new people. She's not from here, and I'm sure she gets lonely sometimes without any friends or family to meet up with."

"I hadn't thought of that," he admitted.

Rossi nodded and pushed himself out of the chair. "So you'll set it up?"

Hotch couldn't help but smile slightly - Dave wasn't going to give him a chance to say no. "I'll set it up."

His friend grinned. "Good."

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Cara couldn't remember the last time she'd had so much fun - or made such a mess. She ducked and laughed as Jack threw a small handful of flour at her, but it didn't do any good. Her hair was looking mostly white now, and both of them were slipping across the tiled floor.

She didn't hear the door open over the music. But as she launched some more flour at Jack, he dodged, and the white powder slid across the floor, coming to stop at a pair of shiny black shoes. Her laugh immediately died, and she stood up to face Hotch, her hand reaching over to turn the music down.

"Hey," she said nervously.

He raised an eyebrow at her. "Having fun?"

"Daddy!"

Jack launched himself into his father's arms, and Hotch picked him right up, not caring about the mess getting onto his suit.

"What are you two up to?"

Jack smiled. "We're makin' cookies!"

"Looks like you're making a mess."

"Sorry about that," Cara interjected. "I didn't expect you home, and...I'll clean it up."

He could see the fear in her eyes, and he realized just how unsure she was around him still. Setting Jack down on the counter, he tried to give her a reassuring smile.

"Actually, I was wondering if you could get Jack cleaned up." He turned to his son. "Aunt Jessica said you could spend the night tonight."

"Really?"

"If you want to."

Jack nodded. "Yeah!"

Hotch looked over at Cara. "So you clean him up and I'll take care of the kitchen?"

She came forward slowly. "You sure?"

He nodded. "Are there cookies that need to come out of the oven?"

She smiled then, some of the nerves leaving her. "Five more minutes and they'll be done."

"Good." He handed Jack over. "Then you can take the messy little boy."

His son grinned and wiped a dirty hand across Hotch's cheek. "You're messy, too, Daddy."

Cara rolled her eyes. "C'mon, munchkin. To the bath with you."

Getting Jack clean took her a little longer than she expected. Still hyper from the flour fight, he had tried attacking her with water, too, and she had ended up soaked. But his laugh was infectious, and she found that she couldn't really get mad at him for it. Once she had gotten them both dried and changed, she helped him pack an overnight bag.

"Got everything?" she asked, zipping the backpack up and sliding his arms into the straps.

Jack nodded and grabbed his favorite bear. "Ready."

Downstairs, they found that Jessica was already there. Jack smiled as soon as he saw her, giving her a big hug.

"I hear you two made quite the mess," Jessie commented, winking at Cara.

Cara laughed. "Yeah. And we got caught red-handed, too."

Jack looked up at his aunt. "Are we gonna have dinner? My tummy's yelling."

She smiled. "How does pizza sound?"

He nodded quickly. "I like pizza."

"I know you do." She looked up. "So we'll see you guys tomorrow?"

Hotch nodded, wiping his hands on a kitchen towel. "Just call when you're ready to bring him back."

Jack walked back to Cara, his face suddenly serious as he took her hand. "Cara?"

She squatted down next to him. "What's up, bud?"

"How are you gonna sing to me if I'm at Aunt Jessie's?"

Cara had to fight back tears. She knew that Jack liked her singing to him, but she hadn't realized just how much it meant to him. Glancing up, she caught Jessica's eye.

"Maybe Aunt Jessie could call me when it's time for you to go to bed and I could sing to you through the phone. Would that be okay?"

Jack turned to look at his aunt, and she nodded, giving him a reassuring smile. "Of course we can."

He turned back to Cara, and she poked his nose gently. "So we good?"

He nodded. "Good."

She grinned and pulled him into a tight hug. "You have a good time."

"I will." He walked over to his dad and hugged him as well, giving him a kiss on the cheek. "Night, Daddy."

"Night, buddy. I'll talk to you when you call Cara, okay?"

Their goodbyes lasted another minute, and then Jessica and Jack were gone, leaving the two of them alone. Cara stuck her hands in her pockets and shuffled her feet.

"Sorry about that."

Hotch frowned, turning to look at her. "For what?"

"I didn't know he'd get so attached to the singing."

He shook his head. "It comforts him. If that's what he needs to sleep...well, I'm just glad he can sleep." He looked at her for a moment longer, wondering if he should mention his own problems with sleep, but then shook his head again. "The reason I asked Jessica to take him for the night was because I was hoping you and I could have dinner."

She looked up sharply at his words, caught completely off-guard. "Really?"

"I realize that you and I...we haven't had a chance to get to know each other at all in the past couple of months, and we should probably work on that. A couple people I work with are meeting up at a diner, and I was hoping you'd join us."

To say she was shocked would have been an understatement. For a moment, she wondered if she had simply heard him wrong, but he was just standing there, obviously waiting for an answer.

"I don't want to intrude," she said slowly.

"You wouldn't be," he assured, suddenly wondering if she was going to turn him down. Looking back on how he had kept her at arm's length, it wouldn't be uncalled for. "I'd really like for you to come."

He sounded sincere, and truth be told, she wanted a chance to get to know this man a little bit better. Giving him a small smile, she nodded.

"I'd love to."


	10. a step forward

***A/N: Sorry this update took so long! Vacation got in the way of writing :D***

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He knew that he should say something, that he needed to start some kind of conversation. But he didn't know where to start. Jack's words still echoed in his head, making it impossible to forget that she knew about his nightmares. He wasn't sure if he talked in his sleep, or if she had heard anything if he did. He just didn't know. And he hated that.

Cara glanced over at him, taking note of the tension in his shoulders and jaw. Aaron Hotchner was not the easiest man to read. She knew that he was guarded, that he probably had good reason to be. She just wished that talking to him didn't feel like banging her head against a brick wall.

They reached the diner before either could figure out what to say.

Sighing, Hotch parked the car and turned off the engine. He unbuckled his seatbelt, but made no move to open the door, and Cara mirrored his actions, waiting him out.

"I'm not very good at this," he said finally, staring out the windshield.

"At what?"

His mouth quirked upward slightly. "Talking."

Cara chuckled, relaxing slightly. "I've noticed."

Any hint of a smile disappeared from his face, and his grip on the steering wheel tightened. "I know it hasn't been easy for you…putting up with me –"

She shook her head, cutting him off. "You're not that bad, Hotch. You're a good man. You're just…"

"Distant."

She glanced over, her eyes kind. "Exactly. Which I get –"

"I just don't know how to do this."

Cara frowned slightly. "The talking?"

"Watching someone else raise my son."

"Hotch –"

He shook his head, finally sneaking a glance over at her. "But I realize now that I was looking at it wrong." She closed her mouth, and he continued. "Jack doesn't just need someone to take care of him. He needs…" He took a deep breath. "He needs a family. And if I'm going to give him that…you and I are going to have to work as a parental unit. Together."

Cara gave him a gentle smiling, knowing how difficult the words were for him. "I agree," she said quietly.

Hotch nodded, grateful for her understanding. Offering his hand, he met her eyes. "Start over?"

Her smile widened as she shook his hand. "Definitely." Her eyes drifted over to the diner. "You're gonna feed me now, right?"

His chuckle was deep as more tension eased out of the car. "It's the least I can do."

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She liked Dave and Emily immediately. Both gave her an easy smile and warm handshake, and as they sat down across from her in the booth, she began to think that maybe the night would go better than she had originally thought.

She watched the two profilers out of the corner of her eye as they ordered drinks and the other three talked about something at work. It was clear that Dave and Emily were close – there was just a level of comfort and familiarity between them that came along with being good friends. Even when they were bantering, they seemed to be in sync with one another.

She also noticed that Hotch managed to keep himself slightly distanced from them, even as he spoke with them.

"So, Cara…" Dave started after they had ordered their food.

She smiled and rolled her eyes. "Is this the part where we play twenty questions?"

"Way to be subtle, Rossi," Emily murmured, taking a sip of her water.

"What can I say?" he asked, shrugging his shoulders. "She's taking care of my best friend and his son."

"I'm not sure I require that much 'taking care of,'" Hotch objected quietly. Three pairs of eyes turned their attention on him, and he bristled slightly, sitting up straighter. "I don't."

"Right," Emily nodded. "And how often does Cara have to remind you to eat something when you come home?"

Hotch sighed, knowing that they were right – and finding that he enjoyed the teasing. It had been too long since he had just spent time with his friends.

"Once in a while," he conceded.

Cara laughed. "He's not too bad. Usually I can just leave a note on the counter, and the next morning the meat from dinner has disappeared without a trace."

"Typical man," Emily quipped.

More laughter spread through the table, and Hotch couldn't help but join in. Dave noticed the change in his friend, but said nothing, afraid that if he brought attention to it, he would clam up again.

"How do you like D.C. so far?" he asked instead.

"It's nice. Warmer than Maine, which I like."

"But colder than California."

"Definitely. It seems like the sun forgets how to work on the East Coast sometimes."

"Too busy baking models on beaches on the West Coast," Emily replied.

"And frying their brain cells with it," Cara added. She glanced over at Dave. "You're really gonna go with the twenty questions, huh?"

He shook his head, eyes twinkling. "I was only going to ask what you like to do in your spare time."

She smiled, sensing that that wasn't really the question that had been on his tongue. But she had read something in his eyes, and she appreciated the softball he had thrown her instead.

"I'm a pretty boring person, actually," she replied. "I don't party. I'm not a big drinker. I like to read, go to the park, go to the gym…right now, most of my 'spare time' is spent coloring with Jack."

Emily smiled. "Got any favorite authors?"

Dave rolled his eyes. "Oh God. Now there are two of them."

"I read a lot of different things," Cara replied, ignoring Dave's comment. "I like the classics. Bronte, Austen, Dickens, Lee…but I like my cheap thrillers and mysteries, too. Agatha Christie might be my favorite, though."

Emily nodded. "I have a soft spot for Vonnegut."

"That's one name for it," Dave muttered into his glass, causing her to roll her eyes.

"Vonnegut is interesting," Cara replied. "A little out there for me, but I can appreciate him."

"Which ones have you read?"

"All of them."

Emily's eyes widened in surprise. "Really?"

"You, Emily Prentiss, are a big nerd."

She swatted at Dave's shoulder – a little harder than necessary – and Cara and Hotch both laughed.

"Fine. Why don't _you_ direct the conversation to _your_ liking?" Emily asked.

Cara caught sight of the waitress, and she leaned back. "Why don't we eat instead?"

"I like that suggestion," Hotch said, staring at the burger placed in front of him.

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"I had a lot of fun tonight," Cara said as they came through the front door. "Thanks for inviting me."

Slipping off his suit jacket, Hotch hung it over the back of a dining room chair before moving to his tie. "I'm glad you came," he said honestly. "I wasn't sure you would." He paused, moving into the kitchen and putting his back to her. "I'm also glad that you're here," he continued, his voice lower. "You've made Jack very happy. And…it's nice to have music and laughter in the house again."

She was pretty sure that was the most she had ever heard out of him in one breath. Taking a tentative step forward, she bit her bottom lip. "I'm not trying to replace her," she whispered.

Hotch nodded. "I know." But he wasn't ready to talk about that. Looking around the rooms he could see from the kitchen, he frowned. "I don't see any of your stuff out here."

Cara frowned, caught off-guard by the subject changed. "What?"

"Shoes, books…I don't even think you have a coat in the closet." He turned his head to look at her, suddenly able to place the uncertainty he had seen in them so many times when they talked. "You take excellent care of Jack…I'm not going to ask you to leave. Your place is here…" He hesitated slightly, his voice faltering. "This is your home."

She smiled at him, and he could feel her relief as she nodded. "That means a lot, Hotch. Thanks."

He nodded at her, and she headed for the stairs, not wanting to push their newfound friendship.

"I'm gonna head to bed. I'll see you tomorrow?"

He nodded once more. "Goodnight, Cara."

"Night, Hotch."

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He stayed up long after she had gone to bed - too much was going on inside his head to make his mind shut off. Pouring himself a glass of scotch, he wandered around the house, eventually making his way down to the basement.

A lot of boxes were down there. Some were fully of Haley's things – things that Jessica hadn't been able to go through yet. Old clothes and toys that had been Jack's when he was younger. Things of his own that he had never gotten around to unpacking.

In the far corner was a punching bag leaning against the wall. Hotch vaguely remembered Jessica mentioning it – Cara had brought it with her from Maine. Not knowing where to put it, she had left it down there.

He had meant his earlier words to her – he really did want her to feel at home here. Things weren't perfect, and he knew he still had a long way to go, but she had proven to be good for his son – and for himself, if he was being completely honest. She deserved to feel comfortable, to feel like the house was hers as well.

Scanning the ceiling, he found a hook protruding from a load-bearing beam. He took one more sip and then set his glass on a lonely end table. It wouldn't be easy by himself, but he was pretty sure he could manage it without waking her up, especially with the help of the stepladder he found hiding behind a few boxes.

Wiping his hands on his pants, he went over to the bag.


	11. Missing Scene

***A/N: This is a 'missing scene.' If you will. Someone mentioned that they had been looking forward to seeing this, and since I didn't include it in the last chapter, I thought you might enjoy seeing it here. It fits in during the diner scene, before Hotch and Cara go home***

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They were laughing again when her phone rang. Glancing down at the display, Cara saw that it was Jessie, and she touched Hotch's shoulder gently.

"It's Jack."

"Do you want to step outside?"

She nodded, and Hotch looked over at his friends.

"Jack wants Cara to sing to him before he goes to sleep. We'll be back in a minute."

Dave and Emily watched them go, Hotch's hand drifting to the small of Cara's back.

"That's really sweet," Emily murmured.

Dave nodded. "I think she's good for the Hotchner men. And God knows they need that right now."

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Cara handed him the phone once they were outside, and he smiled at the sound of his son's voice.

"Hi, Daddy."

"Hey, buddy."

"Are you havin' fun?"

"I am, actually. Cara and I are having dinner with Dave and Emily."

"Awwww...how come I didn't get to come?"

Hotch chuckled. "We'll have them over for dinner soon, okay?"

"Okay. I want JJ to bring Henry, too."

"Okay."

"And I want Aunt Penny and Uncle Derek to come, too."

His smile widened - his son was quite the determined little boy. "Anyone else?"

"Uncle Reid and Aunt Jessie!"

"That sounds like quite the group."

"They're my friends."

Hotch nodded. "I know. I'll talk to Cara and we'll set it up, okay?"

"Okay. Can Cara sing to me now? Aunt Jessie says it's bedtime."

"Sure thing, buddy. I love you."

"Love you. Night, Daddy."

Hotch turned to Cara, but frowned when he saw that she was no longer next to him. She had moved a small distance away, giving him privacy while he talked with Jack. Walking over to her, he placed a gentle hand on her elbow, not wanting to startle her.

"Your turn," he said quietly. "Do you want me to wait inside?"

She shook her head, giving him a small smile. "No, that's okay."

There was a bench behind them, and Hotch took a seat, leaning back. He listened as Cara talked with his son, smiling when she laughed at something Jack said.

And then she began to sing. She kept her voice low, not wanting to attract any attention. Hotch's eyes slid shut almost automatically, letting the song flow through him. He rarely knew the words, but it didn't matter. She put feeling into everything she sang, and it moved him.

I thought that I had everything

I didn't know what life could bring

But now I see, honestly

You're the one thing I got right

The only one I let inside

Now I can breathe 'cus you're here with me

And if I let you down

I'll turn it all around

'cus I will never let you go

I will be all that you want

And get myself together

'cus you keep me from falling apart

All my life

I'll be with you forever

To get you through the day

And make everything okay

Maybe he didn't have to worry about Cara knowing about his nightmares. She hadn't mentioned them - he imagined she didn't want to embarrass him. Nothing in her demeanor had changed at all, either. She seemed to take some kind of happiness out of lending comfort. And both he and Jack could use every ounce they could get.

The song slowly faded away into the night, and when Hotch opened his eyes, he found Cara looking down at him.

"Ready to go back in?" she asked.

He nodded and stood up, following her through the door.


	12. settling in

Hotch came awake slowly, breathing deeply as his body stretched out. Vaguely, he realized that it was Sunday, and for once, he was actually thankful that he didn't have to go to work.

Eyes opening, he wasn't terribly surprised to see Jack standing in front of him. He had told his son before to just wake him, but the little boy wouldn't do it. Instead of saying anything about it, Hotch simply smiled.

"Morning."

"Hi, Daddy."

"You ready for breakfast?"

Jack nodded. "Cara says we're goin' somewhere special. And not church."

He thought he heard sadness in his son's voice – he hadn't realized how much he liked going to church. "Just this once," he explained. "I thought maybe today we could go to the aquarium."

Jack's eyes instantly lit up. "Where all the fishes and the sharks live?"

Hotch laughed. "You wanna go?"

"Yeah!" He paused. "Cara's comin' too, right?"

Pushing himself up into a sitting position, he nodded. "Of course."

"Good. She says you're makin' breakfast."

With that, Jack hurried out, and his father could hear him making his way down the stairs. Shaking his head, Hotch threw on a pair of sweat pants and followed him.

In the few months she had been there, Cara had really gotten the Hotchner men onto a routine. Which was why it seemed strange to find her sitting at the table, reading the paper. He knew that she loved the comics and puzzles, but she normally saved them for the evenings.

"Morning," he said quietly, not wanting to startle her.

She looked up with a bright smile. "Hi."

"I've been told I'm making breakfast."

"He wants French toast."

An eyebrow quirked up. "And you don't do French toast?"

"Not in an edible format."

That made him chuckle as he headed into the kitchen. Cara watched him, enjoying a sight she didn't get to see often. Hotch didn't usually cook, and it was only because Jack told her that she discovered he could do a mean French toast. And now she got to watch father and son work in the kitchen together. She felt the smile on her face growing – maybe they were going to be alright.

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The aquarium turned out to be a chaotic tangle of hurry up and wait. Jack's eyes were as big as saucers as they walked around, and he would race to a display and then just stand there, staring at the fish. He was constantly reaching up for both his father's and Cara's hands, dragging them to each tank, asking them what was inside and where it was from. Hotch didn't care much for the fish themselves, but the trip was well worth it just to see Jack so happy.

"Thank you, by the way," Cara murmured as she stood next to him in front of the beluga whales.

He gave her a puzzled look, completely caught off-guard. "What?"

"Thank you," she repeated, throwing him an amused smirk. "I saw my punching bag last night. That was very nice of you."

His lips twitched up into a smile. "You're welcome. It seemed wasteful to leave it sitting in a corner."

"Trust me, I made good use of it before bed."

He glanced over at her. "Anger issues?"

Cara shrugged, eyes sliding away from him and back to Jack. "We all have issues." The little boy called her name, and she moved to him, effectively ending the conversation.

"You have a gorgeous wife and son."

Hotch blinked, turning at the unexpected voice. To his right stood a man – middle-aged, average-looking in every way – with a woman at his side. The man's eyes were resting on Cara and Jack, but then he looked up at Hotch with a friendly smile.

"I'm sorry," he apologized. "I wasn't trying to be rude –"

Hotch shook his head, trying to catch up. "No, no. I just…" He glanced over at Cara. "She's not my wife. She's my son's nanny."

The man's eyebrows shot up. "Really?" He glanced over at his wife. "Why can't we have a nanny that looks that good?"

She gave him a tight smile. "I think you just answered your own question."

The man sighed, but his wife was already moving away, and he turned to follow her. "Enjoy your day," he said brightly before disappearing into the crowd.

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Jack was asleep before they'd even made it out of the parking lot. A stuffed shark toy was clutched in the crook of his elbow, and his head fell to the side as his breathing deepened. He knew that his son had had a wonderful day, and it had been a long time since Hotch had felt so satisfied.

And he had enjoyed Cara's company as well. She was full of smiles, and quick with a sarcastic retort. The gentleness she showed to Jack almost made his heart hurt, and he knew that his son had really found something to hold onto.

The tension he had felt in her since their first meeting was virtually gone. He wished that he had been brave enough to take that step earlier – now that he looked back on it, it was foolish to think he could ever keep himself so separated from the whole situation. Maybe now, though, they could be friends.

He couldn't remember the last time he had made a new friend.

Once he pulled into the driveway, Cara slipped out and immediately went to the back, lifting Jack out of the car and into her arms. The little boy didn't loosen his grip on his new toy, but the other arm came up to hook around her neck as he settled against her shoulder. She smiled at the way he was so comfortable with her – somehow, she and Jack had found just what they were looking for in each other, and their friendship had come easily. And now that she and Hotch were on better terms…

She glanced up to see the man in question giving her a small smile, and she nodded at him to lead the way.

They were quiet even once they got inside. She carried Jack up the stairs, with Hotch close behind her. The little boy needed to be changed, but she decided to let his father handle that, bending down to press a soft kiss to his forehead. He wouldn't need any songs tonight.

By the time he came back down the stairs, Cara was in the kitchen. He noticed her keys and purse on the table, and he frowned.

"Going somewhere?"

She rolled her eyes. "We're out of milk."

"You can just pick it up tomorrow."

Cara shrugged. "Jack likes to have it with his breakfast – so do I. I might as well just get it now. Shouldn't take me long."

He nodded. "Drive safe."

Parts of the area were still completely foreign to her, but Cara had managed to map out the important routes in her head, and it didn't take her long to make it to a gas station. Milk was more expensive there, but she was tired, and all she really wanted to do was go home and curl up in bed.

A smile tugged at her lips as she placed the milk on the passenger seat in her car. The Hotchner household really was starting to feel like home. Making her way back down the quiet roads, she marveled at how much her life had changed in the past few months. Things had seemed bleak back in Maine, but as she came to a stop at an empty intersection, she reminded herself that God had always carried her through to better things.

She didn't see the flutter of shadows off to her left, or notice that the streetlight right above her was out. Her mind elsewhere completely, she was oblivious until her door was yanked open and hands grabbed at her. She tried to scream, tried to kick and fight, but the seatbelt hindered her movements.

A cloth was pressed against her face and held there firmly, and her kicks died away as everything faded to black.


	13. gone

The sick feeling settled into his stomach when she was gone an hour. It turned into painful heartburn thirty minutes later, and another thirty after that, it had reached his throat and was trying to choke him.

Something wasn't right.

He tried to stay calm, calling her cell phone every ten minutes, praying that she would pick up. But there was no answer - nothing but her gentle greeting on the voicemail, asking him to leave a message.

Which he did.

Several times.

She was a responsible person. It hadn't taken him long to realize that about her, and it was something that he was certain of. She wouldn't get sidetracked on an errand and simply forget to let him know - especially not this late at night.

He stared out the window, trying to refocus his thoughts. Jack was upstairs sleeping, and that meant that he couldn't go looking for her. But that didn't mean that he had to sit on his hands and do nothing.

Pulling out his phone, he dialed a familiar number.

"Dave, I need a favor."

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Rossi kept an eye out for Cara's car as he drove slowly through Hotch's neighborhood, taking special care to look in any ditches on the side of the road. He was hoping that the younger woman had simply run into some car problems, but that didn't explain why she wasn't answering her cell phone or trying to get in contact with Hotch.

He wouldn't admit it to his friend yet, but he was worried.

It came with the job. They had seen so many twisted things, so many worst case scenarios. Sometimes it was impossible to separate that from their personal lives. He knew that Cara was strong - that much was obvious from the information Garcia had dug up on her past - but Dave just hoped that if someone had messed with her, she had had the chance to fight back.

He made it all the way to the gas station that Hotch suspected had been her destination, and there hadn't been any sign of her. Taking a deep breath, he pulled out the picture Garcia had sent to him and got out of the car.

The kid behind the counter was young, but he didn't seem insipidly stupid, either. As soon as Rossi showed him his badge, his full attention was on the agent, and he answered his questions without any hesitation.

"Have you seen this woman in here tonight?"

The kid nodded. "Yeah, maybe...two hours ago? I think she bought a gallon of milk. No gas."

"And she seemed alright?"

He shrugged. "As far as I could tell. I mean, she gave me a nice smile, made small talk...she's actually the first friendly customer I've had in here tonight."

That sounded exactly like Cara.

"Did you happen to see which way she went when she left?" he asked, sliding the picture into his inside jacket pocket.

The kid pointed down the road in the direction Rossi had come from. "That way," he explained. "She was the only one in here."

"You're sure of that?"

The kid nodded, moving his arm so that he could point to the mirrors placed in strategic places around the store. "I can see everything from here, man. She was the only one here."

Dave thanked him and then walked out, eyes sweeping through the small lot as he looked for something - anything - that would give him a clue as to what had happened. But if the kid was to believed, which Rossi was fairly certain he could be, then Cara had gotten to the gas station and left again without a problem.

So what had happened between here and Hotch's?

Sighing and rubbing at his forehead, he pulled his phone out.

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The first question out of Jack's mouth the next morning was the one Hotch dreaded the most. Hair going in every direction, and hands wiping the sleep out of his eyes, he looked around.

"Where's Cara?"

Hotch hadn't slept at all. Once Dave had called him to let him know that Cara had indeed made it to the gas station safely, the knot in his stomach just tightened painfully. She wouldn't just disappear of her own volition. Hotch hated to admit it, but he had profiled her in the first week she had been there, and then had asked Rossi for his opinion once the older agent had met her as well. Both agreed that she was a responsible, caring person who would do a good job with Jack. There was nothing that suggested she would simply disappear.

But the alternative was an even darker thought, and it made Hotch sick. He couldn't do this. He couldn't explain to Jack that another woman in his life had been taken away from him. That, yet again, his father had been unable to keep his family safe.

He hated lying, but until he knew more, scaring or upsetting Jack was pointless.

"She had to run a couple of errands. You're going to spend the day with Aunt Jessica."

The little boy shrugged. "Okay."

Jessica knew something was wrong as soon as she opened the door to find them standing there. But Hotch found that he couldn't explain it to her, either. If he spoke, if he put a voice to the fears that were rising up in the back of his mind, he wasn't sure that he'd be able to handle it. Instead, he just leaned in and kissed her on the cheek.

"I'll call," he promised.

As he made his way into the building and headed up to his office, he ran through his options. It was too soon to issue a missing persons report - but there was no way he could just sit around until then. He made a mental note to ask Garcia for the phone numbers of people important to Cara. Perhaps one of them had heard from her. He could only hope and pray.

Dave met him at the elevator. "We've got a case," he said.

Hotch sighed, following his friend into the briefing room. "Of course we do. On the one day I can't think straight."

"We'll find her, Aaron."

He pushed all the worry and stress off of his face. "We have to."

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JJ put four photographs on the screen. "Lindsay Tobin, Rachel McGhee, Sandra Klein, and Jennifer Haskins. All single women in their late twenties or early thirties."

Reid frowned. "But none of them look anything alike," he objected. "The UNSUB should have a preference -"

"He does," JJ cut in. "They're all nannies."

Hotch's heart nearly stopped. "What did you say?" he asked, his voice hoarse.

"They're all local nannies," she repeated. All of them with at least one college degree. Two of them were going for their masters." She clicked a button on her remote, and more gruesome photos went up. "Each woman was found between twelve and twenty-four hours after they were taken. The UNSUB doesn't keep them for very long. And when he's through with them, he dumps them in a well-traveled area so that they'll be found quickly."

"Where were they taken from?" Rossi asked, knowing that Hotch wouldn't be able to.

"Each of the victims was taken from their car. Two were on their way home from the grocery store, the third from the movie theater, and the last one from a run in the park."

"Sexual assault?" Morgan asked, causing Hotch to flinch slightly.

JJ nodded. "Yeah. Pretty rough from the looks of it."

"DNA?"

She shook her head. "Evidence of spermicide."

"How were they killed?" Emily asked.

"Strangulation."

Hotch closed his eyes, but quickly reopened them when images of Cara and Haley dead flashed across his line of sight. The very idea that some sociopath had his hands on Cara was enough to send him reeling, but he knew that he had to pull himself back. If he didn't, he would be useless to her, and he would lose her just as he had lost Haley.

"Garcia," he said, surprised at the strength of his voice.

"Yes, sir," she responded.

"Can you put up a picture of Cara, please?"

She frowned. "Cara as in..." Her eyes widened. "Oh God."

Emily sat up immediately. "Did something happen?"

"Garcia, please."

"Working on it, sir." Her hands flew across the keyboard, and in moments, Cara's picture was next to the other victims.

Tears stung the back of his eyes, but Hotch blinked them away.

"Cara went out for milk last night and didn't come home."

The room fell silent.


	14. searching

She woke up slowly, her eyelids heavy and her mind filled with fog. She tried to look around the room, frowning when she realized that she couldn't see anything. The darkness was complete and oppressive, pressing down on her and threatening to suffocate her entirely.

She almost panicked. But as she jerked upright and raised her hands, she realized that a blindfold covered her eyes. She fingered its edges, suddenly struck with a different fear.

Maybe she didn't want to see what was on the other side.

The only other option, though, was to remain in the darkness. And that wasn't something she had ever been willing to do. Curling her fingers around the edges, she pulled the blindfold down, blinking at the sudden light.

She only caught a glimpse of the room around her - wrought iron furniture and a white crib in the corner - before her vision was flooded with a face that tickled at the edges of her memory.

"Welcome to your new home," it whispered.

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"You think she's the fifth victim?" Morgan asked, frowning.

"She fits the profile," JJ said quietly, her eyes darting over to Hotch. "Age, education, vocation..."

"Alright," he conceded. "But we also don't know her too well, right? I mean...is it possible that she went out for the night and woke up hung over somewhere?"

Four heads were shaking before he'd even finished the question, but it was Emily who answered him.

"I met her, Derek. She doesn't party. She doesn't get in trouble. I would guess that she's responsible to the point where it can actually cause her pain."

"And she loves Jack," JJ added. "She wouldn't not be there when he wakes up if she's supposed to be. She knows what he's lost."

"She was just going out for milk," Hotch said quietly. "She didn't have a bag with her - not even her purse. Just her phone and her wallet. A sweatshirt, flip-flops..."

Morgan nodded, getting the picture. "Exactly what I would wear if I was running out and planning on coming right back home." He nodded again. "So where do we start?"

"We need to find out how our UNSUB is finding them," Rossi suggested.

"Dave is right," Hotch said, doing his best to wipe the exhausted look off his face and get down to what he knew best. "Garcia."

"Yes, sir."

"Do we have the computers of the other four victims?"

"Yes."

"Good. I want you to take Cara's as well and look at their online activity. Maybe they all posted somewhere, telling people what they do for a living."

Emily sighed. "Facebook. Twitter. MySpace."

Penelope nodded, fingers already flying across her keyboard. "Right. I'll see if any had friends in common. Maybe someone was virtually stalking them. If that's the case, I'll catch the bastard and bring him back to reality."

"Good. Morgan, I want you to get in contact with the local PD. We need a BOLO out on her car."

"On it."

"Dave, Reid. Go back to the families of the first two victims. Get whatever information you can. See if anyone in their lives overlaps. Emily, you and I will take the second two families." Everyone nodded.

"Do you want me to give Cara's photo to the media?" JJ asked.

Hotch shared a glance with Dave before shaking his head. "We don't know..." He paused to swallow. "We don't know if he's killed her yet. If he hasn't, and he sees her picture on the news, it might spook him. We don't want to provoke him."

No one argued with that. They sat there for a moment, until Hotch looked up, seeing their worried eyes trained on him.

"Go," he urged.

They did.

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"Who are you?" she whispered, her lips cracking painfully.

"I'm Ellen," she whispered, and Cara finally realized that it was in fact a woman.

"What do you want?" Her voice sounded harsh in her own ears.

But Ellen just kept speaking as though she hadn't heard her.

"And this," she said, eyes bright as she moved a bundle of blankets closer, "is Amy."

Raising a hand slowly, Cara touched the edges of the blanket. It was soft and warm, slightly frayed around the edges. When Ellen didn't pull away, she took a firmer hold of one of the corners and pulled the blanket aside.

There was nothing there.

When she met Ellen's eyes again, she saw an unmistakable look - one she had spent most of her childhood fearing.

The look of a mind pushed completely into madness.

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It wasn't often that Hotch came down to her little den. Phone calls were just as easy, especially when they were working an active case, and she was used to spending most of a case alone.

He appeared so quietly and suddenly, that her hand immediately flew to her chest.

"Goodness gracious, sir!" she exclaimed. "Are you trying to give me a heart attack?"

His mouth tried to quirk up at that, but the sadness and worry in his eyes prevailed.

"Did you find anything?" he asked quietly.

Wishing she could ease his pain, Garcia shook her head. "I'm sorry, sir. I just...these women don't intersect anywhere. One was an avid Facebooker, but she didn't have her location filled in. The others were on Facebook, but their professions weren't there...and Cara wasn't a big blogger. Her profile was barely updated. Really, there were just a lot of pictures and comments from people she went to college with."

"No common threads?"

"None. No one suspicious on their friends' lists either. I checked them all out, but the only records had to do with scattered misdemeanors."

He sighed, briefly shutting his eyes. She had been gone for more than twelve hours now, and every minute that passed worked against her.

"Dig deeper," he said. "Get into every aspect of their lives. They had to have crossed somewhere. We know Cara's past, but..." Hotch trailed off, seeing the look of discomfort on Garcia's face. "What is it, Penelope?"

"Please don't be mad at me."

He frowned. "Garcia -"

"I didn't tell you everything about Cara."

That pulled him up short. "What did you say?"

She rushed to explain, hating the expression on his face. "I told you the important stuff. I didn't lie, sir. I did a thorough background check, and everything matched. I -"

He felt like all the air had been ripped from his lungs. "Penelope, why would you do that?"

"Because I told her to," Dave said, stepping into the room. When both agents turned to look at him, he grunted, facing his friend. "Don't blame her, Aaron. I'm the one that told her to hold some things back."

"But why?"

"Because I know you! Because just having her in the house wasn't enough. You needed someone. Someone you could get to know, someone who could be your friend. If Garcia told you absolutely everything there was to know about her, you would never have to do any work. You would have skated by, keeping her at arm's length."

He didn't know what to say. He knew that he needed to be focusing on other things, but his brain was stuck on the fact that they had kept things from him.

"But you?" he asked finally. "You know everything about her?"

"I know everything on paper," Dave corrected. "But unlike you, I remember how to dig deeper with people."

Hotch pointed at him, his hand shaking. "You had no right -"

There was a noise at the door, and then Morgan was leaning in, his face tight and anxious.

"We found her car."

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"We don't ask much of you," Ellen said hurriedly. "I'll take care of the house, the cleaning, the cooking..." She was nodding.

Cara watched her carefully, mulling over her words before putting a voice to them. "So what do you need me to do?"

She held out the bundle. "To take care of Amy, of course. That's your job. You're the nanny."

The bundle was pressed into her arms, and Cara took it, holding it close to her chest. It was incredibly light, since there was nothing in it, but she held it carefully, knowing that Ellen was convinced there was a baby there.

"How old is she?" she asked quietly, trying to keep her voice steady.

"Nine months. Beautiful, isn't she?"

Cara looked down at the blankets, swallowing back tears. "She's gorgeous."

Ellen nodded. "I'll bring a bottle whenever it's time for her to eat, and you'll change her, and put her to sleep, and keep her safe..."

"You don't have to bring the bottles up. I can come down -"

She stood suddenly, startling Cara as she shook her head. "Stephen wouldn't like that."

"Who?"

"My husband," she whispered. She glanced at the clock on the nightstand. "I have to go. I'll be back with a bottle when it's time. Make sure Amy gets a good nap."

And with that, she walked out of the room, and Cara could hear the heavy sound of locks falling into place.

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The car gave them nothing. The milk was there, with her cell phone and wallet, but there were no prints, no fibers. The smell of chloroform lingered in the air, and they knew that Cara had been unable to fight her attacker.

"That ditch is nowhere near anything," Emily observed as they all sat in the briefing room, staring at the board. Even if it's near where she's being held, there's nothing to tell us where exactly that might be."

Hotch leaned against a far wall, one hand pinching the bridge of his nose. His mind was a mess. Memories of his last conversation with Haley kept flashing back to him, mixing and mingling with memories of Cara. The nanny had become the much needed mother figure in his son's life - he couldn't imagine what it was going to do to Jack to lose her as well.

And as Dave had predicted, they had become friends. He didn't want to lose her either.

"Hotch."

He looked up at Morgan's quiet tone to find the agent looking at him sympathetically.

"It's been almost twenty-four hours. We can hope for the best, but you gotta prepare yourself for the fact that she might be -"

"Don't."

"Hotch -"

He stood up straighter. "I know the chances, Morgan. I know the statistics. I know better than most."

The words were quiet, but they sliced through the room. Unsure how long he could keep his professional facade up, Hotch turned, pulling the door open and walking out.


	15. through the darkness

Nothing. Two days, and they hadn't found a single clue that had led them closer to finding Cara. He tried to keep up hope, but anytime he let his mind dwell on it for too long, a cold knot would form in his chest, and he wouldn't be able to breathe.

"Why are they here?" Dave asked, coming up to stand beside him.

They stood outside of his office, looking in at Jack and his aunt. Jack was swinging his legs back and forth as he sat in one of the chairs, but Jessica looked worried. She knew that something was wrong.

"I can't lie to him, Dave," Hotch said quietly. "If he has to go through this again…" He shook his head, unable to finish the sentence.

Reaching out, Rossi placed a gentle hand on his friend's shoulder. "There's a good chance she's still alive, Aaron. You know this guy's M.O. The other victims were discovered only a few hours after they were dumped. And Cara hasn't been found yet." He paused. "And she's strong. I noticed it the first night I met her. She's well-built, and she's fit. She'll fight to live."

"I hope so. I don't think Jack could handle losing her." Hotch swallowed, his hand reaching for the knob. "I don't think I could either," he added quietly.

"Hi Daddy!" Jack ran over to give him a hug as soon as he was in the room.

"Hey, buddy." Picking his son up, Hotch held him tightly, his tired and worried eyes meeting Jessica's.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

Jack pulled back slightly, his expression serious. "Daddy, where's Cara? I miss her."

"That's what we need to talk about." He carried his son over to a chair and then set him down on it, dropping to one knee in front of him. "You remember what Daddy does for a living?"

Jack nodded. "You catch the bad guys."

"That's right." Taking a deep breath, Hotch forced himself to meet the little boy's gaze. "A bad guy took Cara."

He heard a sharp gasp from Jessica, but he didn't take his eyes off of his son. Jack's bottom lip trembled, and his little hands squeezed into fists.

"Is she gone like Mommy?" he asked, his voice tiny.

Hotch took his face in his hands. "I am trying to find her," he said firmly. "Believe me, Jack. I am doing everything I can to get her back."

A tear slid down his son's face. "You gotta bring her home, Daddy. She's family." All of his composure snapped, and the little boy began to cry.

Hotch held him tightly, struggling to keep his own emotions in check. "I know," he whispered. "I know." He repeated the words as he hugged him, wishing he could do more. When his tears finally subsided, Jack sniffed loudly.

"Daddy?"

"Yeah?"

Jack pulled back slightly, his fingers playing with Hotch's tie. "Do you think she's scared?"

"I think she's brave," he replied. "And I know that she loves you very much. She won't give up, Jack."

As his son rested his head on his shoulder once again, Hotch tried to meet Jessica's eyes. He saw his own worry and fear reflected there – and now Jack's words haunted him even more. He couldn't push the image of Cara out of his mind: scared, alone, wondering if anyone was going to come rescue her.

Jessica wiped at her face. "Aaron," she whispered.

"I'm trying," he said quietly, cutting her off. "I promise you both. I'm trying."

Her hands were starting to shake. She couldn't tell if it was the exhaustion or the fear or the anger, but she suspected that it was some combination of the three. The fear threatened to overwhelm her at times – when she began to lose track of time, or had nightmares that no one was looking for her – but then the anger would roil through her again. She was inot/i going to be beaten by an insane woman and her husband. She was stronger than that.

She had been through hell and back, and she would survive this, too.

If she could only find a way to escape. She had tried the window the first night, but quickly realized that it had been screwed shut. Every piece of furniture in the room was wrought iron and bolted to the ground. There was nothing sharp, nothing to pick up and throw…

She would just have to find another way.

Until then, she would play their game. She was convinced that Ellen was completely insane. There were times when the woman seemed almost normal, but it was obvious she was living in a world of her own construction.

Cara knew crazy, and she knew just how dangerous it could be. Anything could set Ellen off, make her turn violent, and she couldn't risk that until she found a way out.

Sighing, she leaned over the crib and pulled out the empty bundle of blankets. Playing along meant that she had to pretend there was a baby girl in her care. She could guess that Ellen had lost baby Amy at some point, and the grief had pushed her over the edge. An accident, a sudden illness…it was obvious that the woman had loved her child, that she was completely absorbed by the need to care for her and keep her safe. Whatever had happened, it had been too much for her.

The songs came naturally, one blending into another as she sat down in the only chair in the room. Ellen had done what she could to soften the look of the cold iron – a bright blanket, a soft cushion. Closing her eyes, Cara tried to pretend that she was in a real nursery, with a real baby, employed by a normal family.

All she could see was little Jack Hotchner looking up at her with sad eyes.

"You have a beautiful voice."

Her skin crawled before she even opened her eyes. The husband was staring at her, his eyes traveling over her as he stood in the doorway. Cara knew that look, had had to put up with it in the past, and she had to repress a shudder while she kept her face neutral.

"Thank you," she said quietly.

He slipped into the room, coming to stand by the window, behind her chair. She fought the urge to jump out of the chair and put distance between them again. Unlike Ellen, this man wasn't crazy – Cara was convinced he was just evil.

His hand slid over her shoulder and she tensed.

"Stephen."

Both of their heads snapped up at the new voice, and they saw Ellen standing in the doorway, her eyes narrow. The hand came off of Cara's shoulder, and Stephen moved away, kissing his wife on the cheek before disappearing from the room.

Cara took a deep breath, wondering how to diffuse the situation. "Ellen –"

"I will not have betrayal under my roof."

Her voice was hard, leaving no room for argument. Protesting her innocence would have been useless, so Cara simply nodded.

"I understand."

And just like that, the anger dissipated, and Ellen stepped completely into the room, a small smile on her face.

"I knew you would."

"Does staring at those pictures really help?" Reid asked, pouring over maps on the table.

"We're missing something," Morgan said bluntly.

"We're actually probably missing a few things. Where the UNSUB is finding the victims, how he knows their profession, how –"

"Alright, kid. I get the idea." He shook his head, once again staring at the pictures of their victims until his gaze came to rest fully on the one of Cara. "Hotch never mentioned that she was gorgeous."

Reid shrugged. "Maybe he didn't notice."

"Trust me, I noticed," Hotch replied, stalking into the room, rubbing his forehead. He moved toward the coffee someone had brought, but stopped halfway there, turning back to Morgan. "Wait…say that again."

The other agent frowned. "She's beautiful."

"You said 'gorgeous.' She's gorgeous."

"Well, yeah, Hotch. I've got eyes."

Hotch shook his head as the rest of the team came into the briefing room. "You're not the first one to say that. On Sunday, Cara and I took Jack to the aquarium. There was a man…a couple. He mistook Cara for my wife and told me she was gorgeous."

"I'm sure it's a compliment she gets a lot," Morgan argued.

Rossi's eyes narrowed. "His wife was standing there?"

Hotch nodded. "She was right there."

"Strange for him to compliment another man's wife in front of his own. Even if he was mistaken…"

"I corrected him," Hotch cut in. "I told him that she was Jack's nanny."

"Garcia," Emily said. "Can you get us the cameras –"

"Already on it, cupcake," Penelope replied, sitting down in front of her computer. "Sir, do you remember where in the aquarium you were when you ran into this guy?"

Hotch frowned in thought, his heart pounding. "The tiger sharks. Jack was in love with them."

Garcia's fingers flew across the keyboard, the tapping unnaturally loud as everyone else in the room held their breath. Within moments, camera images were playing across the big screen, and Hotch's was trying to look everywhere at once, desperately searching.

"There she is," JJ called out, stepping forward and pointing.

The image froze, and for a minute, Hotch just stared. It was going on three days now since he had seen Cara, his stomach knotted painfully as he saw her holding hands with his son.

"Aaron," Rossi said softly. "Is he there?"

He pushed out his hope and worry, swallowing them down as he tried to resume his professional mindset. Scanning the image, he pointed suddenly. "There. That's him."

Nobody had to say anything. Garcia was already pulling up camera footage from the ticket lines leading into the aquarium and running facial recognition software. The silence was painful as the program did its work, but then there was a soft beeping.

"I found him," she said breathlessly. "And I've got one credit card going through when he's standing at the front of the line."

"Run it," Rossi growled.

The information came up quickly, scrolling across the screen. "Stephen Connors," she read off. "Married to Ellen Connors, residing at 193 Cedar Hollow Lane. He's a computer programmer for a local contracting company…looks like she's a single mom. They have a daughter, Amy, born two years ago…"

"Garcia," Emily interrupted. "Run his credit card against the other victims'."

"Oh God," she breathed.

"Garcia –"

"His card matched up against each of the victims' on the day before they were abducted."

The room froze.

"That's how he finds them," Morgan said finally. "He runs into them some place, finds out that they're nannies, and then takes them the next day."

JJ nodded. "It wouldn't be hard to find out. The movies, a restaurant…these women probably had the kids with them. He comments on how cute their son or daughter is…"

"And they correct him," Emily finishes. "They hand the information right over to the bastard without even knowing it."

"So now what?" Reid asked.

Hotch's eyes were hard as he stared at the screen. "Now we go get her."


	16. i just want to come home

She tried to keep track of the time. She could guess that she had been there three or four days, but things were starting to blur together. Ellen would wake her up at all hours, insisting that Amy needed to be fed or changed. Even in the small chunks of time she had to herself, she couldn't rest. Not if she wanted to get out of there.

Pushing the hair out of her eyes, Cara reached back and removed her necklace. She ran her fingers along the pendant's ridges, remembering the day her mother had given it to her.

iThe key to your heart," she had explained. "Always keep it close." There was something in her eyes. "Not like I did," she murmured softly. /i

Cara shook her head and knelt down beside the nightstand. Everything in the room was bolted down, but she had managed to undo one of the screws with the pendant. It took too much time - if she went quickly, she'd cut her fingers and draw attention - but it was the only option she had.

A small creak on the stairs threw her heart into her chest, and she came to her feet quickly, refastening the chain around her neck. By the time the door was opening, she was leaning over the crib, trying to calm her pounding heart.

"Is she asleep?" Ellen asked in a whisper.

Cara nodded, forcing a warm smile onto her face. "She just went down."

Ellen peered into the crib, her eyes shining. "She's such a dear, isn't she?"

"She really is."

Ellen turned, leaning against the crib and facing her. "You've been wonderful, too. We tried some other girls before you, but they just couldn't care for all of Amy's needs. They didn't love her the way you do."

She kept the smile on her face, but Cara's insides turned painfully cold. From the moment she met them, she had been convinced they would kill her if she didn't make them happy. If there had been other girls before her...

"You seem sad," Ellen continued.

"I just...I miss my family," she replied, hoping that wouldn't upset the woman.

"I understand," Ellen said, her voice full of sympathy. "I saw that little boy you looked after. You must love him very much."

Cara nodded, fighting back tears at the thought of Jack. "I do."

The other woman moved across the room and opened the door. At the last minute, she turned back.

"We'll get him for you," she said with a smile, as though she were offering the world. "We've always wanted a son. We can be a family."

Cara was too stunned to respond. The door closed, and she was left to just stare at the blank oak.

Choking back a strangled sob, she fell to her knees, ripping off her necklace and attacking the screws once again.

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Hotch stared at JJ as Prentiss attached the wire to the media liaison's torso.

"This is risky," he said quietly.

"We don't have enough for a warrant," JJ reminded him. "We need to find out if Cara's in there."

"And if they don't let you in?"

"Then we find another way," Rossi said, stepping forward. "We'll be right down the road, Jayje. If anything goes wrong..."

She gave him a small smile. "I know. Let's just do this and get Cara back, okay?"

They all nodded.

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JJ was glad that it was raining. It gave sincerity to her story, and she hoped it would garner more sympathy. She could feel the wire snaking down her body, but she tried to ignore it, focusing on the task at hand. The rain was cold, and she was relieved when a woman opened the door.

At first glance, she looked completely normal. A woman in her mid-to-late thirties, brown hair just brushing across her shoulders. JJ may not have been a profiler, but she spent all day reading people, deciding the best way to handle them. And she could tell that there was something off with this woman. Something not quite right.

"Can I help you?"

Using a shaky hand, JJ pushed her wet bangs out of her face. "Hi," she said nervously. "I...I need some help."

The woman was suspicious, and she kept the door mostly shut. "With what?"

Forcing up a couple tears, JJ let them slide down her face. "My, uh...my boyfriend. He...we had a fight. And he just...he just left. My purse, my phone...I need to call someone to come get me." Her mouth trembled. "Please. It's so cold out here."

Her voice broke, and she saw sympathy welling up in the woman's eyes. But relief still flooded through her when she answered.

"You can use our phone."

JJ made sure to keep her movements slow and small once she was inside. She tried to take everything in - the extreme neatness, the lack of photographs - even as she kept her eyes on her host.

There was no sign of Cara yet, but that didn't mean she wasn't there.

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Cara knew when the doors opened and closed in the house. There was a schedule, and nothing ever deviated from it - she got the feeling that Stephen was very strict about what happened in his house. He had to be if he was kidnapping women and then disposing of their bodies.

The door was not supposed to be opening.

She tried to keep her breathing steady, tried to keep her heartbeat from drowning out the voices downstairs. She wanted to open the door so badly, but her hands shook, and she was afraid. If the slightest noise reached them, if Ellen thought that she was trying to call attention to herself, her one chance could be lost.

Or worse, she could get the person downstairs hurt.

She pressed her ear to the door.

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JJ knew she walked a thin line. If Cara was somewhere in the house, she wanted her to hear her voice, to know that help was on the way. But she couldn't yell into the phone. Raising her voice like most people did when they were on a cell phone, she did her best to straddle that line.

"Aaron? It's Jen. I need...Do you think you could come get me?"

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She knew that voice.

It made her breath catch, made one hand come up to clutch at her throat. A part of her had been afraid that no one was looking for her. Afraid that maybe they had believed she had just run away. But JJ was downstairs.

And she had said Aaron's name.

Her whole body shaking, Cara leaned against the wall, sinking down onto the floor. And then she did the only thing she could think of, the only thing that could maybe tell JJ that she was there.

She began to sing.

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Hotch didn't know the song - but then, he rarely did when it came to her. Her voice was faint, as though it were coming from far away, but he knew it. It took a hold of him, squeezing his chest, making it difficult to breathe.

_Under the ash and the lies,_

_Something beautiful once here now dies,_

_And the tears burn my eyes,_

_As you sit there, all alone._

_I just want to come home,_

_But you see the shelter as the storm,_

_Holding wind to keep you on,_

_You are everything to me, this is why I have to leave,_

_So sleep well my angel._

_Sleep well, my angel _

"My God," he whispered to Dave, one hand dragging across his face. "She's alive. She's alive."

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JJ fought to keep her voice steady, to keep her hands from shaking even more than they were. "Is that your daughter?" she asked.

She shook her head. "No. That's our nanny." There was a note of pride in her tone.

"She has a beautiful voice."

"She does. Her singing always quiets Amy right down."

"How long as she been with you?"

The woman just shrugged her shoulders, no longer meeting her eyes. "Awhile now." Something outside caught her attention. "I think your friend is here. You said he lived nearby..."

"Right." JJ stood, running her hands over her jacket. "Thank you again. You really helped me out."

"Of course."

She walked JJ right to the door, not giving her a chance to linger. Nodding once more, the media liaison walked out, heading for the black car that idled across the street.

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Cara heard the door shut, and it took everything in her not to cry.

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"So what's the plan?" Emily asked as they stood around the SUV.

"Why not just storm the house and get her the hell out of there?" Morgan suggested, strapping on his vest.

Hotch stared down the street - the house was barely hidden by a row of trees, but they were cloaked in early shadows brought on by the rainstorm.

"The UNSUB could panic and kill her," Rossi pointed out.

"This is a husband-wife team," Hotch said, his eyes still locked on the house. "She's the submissive personality. If she tells him about JJ's visit, he could get jumpy and kill her anyway."

"So we go in?" Morgan asked.

Hotch nodded. "We go in."

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She cut her hand on the last screw. Blood flowed freely from her palm, but it didn't matter anymore. If Ellen was right and they planned on taking Jack, she couldn't waste any more time. She had to trust that JJ had heard her, that she had recognized her voice. Either she got out and got rescued, or she died trying.

Both would keep Jack safe.

She heard the creak on the stairs, but it was already too late. The screws were lying on the floor and there was no way for her to hide it. If she was going to make her move, it had to be now.

The last screw came free, and she almost cried in relief, the necklace slipping out of her grasp.

She didn't have time to estimate the weight of the nightstand. She knew that it was iron, that it was heavy. But the door was opening, and her options were gone. Grasping it in both hands, she lifted it over her head and swung it as hard as she could, throwing it out the window.

His shadow filled the doorway as glass exploded.

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They heard the window shatter. There was no hesitation as they all broke into a run, weapons at the ready. Morgan and Hotch were racing across the yard first, both taking in the nightstand that lay amidst shards of glass on the front lawn. The door was thick, and it took three solid kicks for Morgan to get it down, but then they were in the house, sweeping in with their guns in front of them.

The woman was screaming, and Hotch vaguely registered the name "Amy" before Morgan moved to subdue her. There was a loud crash from above, and Hotch hit the stairs running.

Everything slowed as he reached the only open door on the second floor. Scenarios were playing out in his mind - Cara lying in a pool of blood, the UNSUB standing over her; her lifeless eyes staring at him in accusation.

When he came through the doorway, he slid to a stop, eyes wide.

There was blood on her face, on her hands. Her shirt was torn and hanging from her body. But there was a shotgun in her hand and she had it pointed at a man on the floor, his nose bleeding heavily.

He must have made some noise, because then the gun was pointing at him, her eyes wild and her mouth trembling.

"It's me," he whispered. "It's me." He felt someone come up behind him, and he knew that the others had reached them. "Get him out of here," he ordered, nodding at the UNSUB. But his eyes never left her.

Even as Morgan and Emily dragged him out of the room, Cara kept her gun trained on Hotch. He could tell she was processing, that her mind was having trouble keeping up with everything that had happened. She was terrified, and with the adrenaline surging through her, he knew it would be difficult for her to come back down.

But he also trusted that she wouldn't shoot him.

Slowly, he holstered his weapon and raised his hands. "Cara."

Her hands began to shake. He took a step closer.

"Cara," he said softly. "It's me. It's Hotch."

Tears began to slide down her face, and she shook her head. "I couldn't let them," she whispered. "I couldn't let them do it."

He wasn't sure what she was talking about - keeping her hostage, or the husband trying to force himself on her as he had the other victims. It didn't matter. Not at that moment.

"It's over," he told her. "I'm here to take you home." His throat tightened. "Jack's waiting for you."

The shaking in her hands worsened, and then her grip loosened, dropping the weapon to the floor. Her knees began to give, but Hotch was already moving, catching her before she fell. Holding her tightly, he kissed the top of her head.

"I've got you," he murmured. "You're safe."

She cried.


	17. don't stop dancing

The lights swam in her vision - red and blue and red again. There were sirens and people talking, neighbors already gossiping about what was going on, but they all sounded muffled to her. A chill ran across her shoulders and down her spine, and she pulled the jacket tighter around her.

Hotch's jacket.

Hotch.

Her eyes sought him out. He was standing with Dave, arms crossed, head bowed, still wearing his vest. She could see the weariness in his shoulders, and she wondered how long it had been since he'd slept.

He must have felt her gaze. Turning slowly, he watched her for a moment and then began walking towards her. His eyes were troubled, and she could feel his tension. She licked her chapped lips and swallowed.

"You came for me," she whispered, her voice sounding strange in her ears.

Hotch frowned. "Of course I came for you."

Cara shrugged slightly, wincing in pain as she realized she had pulled something in her back. "I thought...I was afraid you thought I had just run out."

He shook his head, sitting down beside her in the back of the SUV. "You wouldn't do that to Jack."

"I wouldn't do it to you, either."

He nodded. "We need to get you to the hospital."

Cara groaned - that was the last place she wanted to go. "We really don't, Hotch. I have a few cuts and bruises, and I think I pulled my back, but I really just want to go home and sleep."

He didn't answer her right away, instead staring at the concrete between his feet. When he spoke, his voice was quiet, and he kept his head down.

"We know what happened to the other victims."

"That they were killed? I got that much..."

"That they were violated."

Cara frowned, the word not registering at first. Then she looked down at her ripped shirt and understood. Her attacker had grabbed a hold of it during their struggle, and it was beyond salvaging. Softening her expression, she reached out and touched her fingertips to his chin, turning him to face her.

"He didn't rape me, Hotch."

Relief flooded into his eyes, and he took a deep breath. "He didn't?"

Cara shook her head. "He made some advances, but she kept him at bay." She touched her shirt. "This was just from the fight."

His eyes closed briefly. "Thank God," he murmured. "I thought..." He shook his head.

She gave him a small smile. "I just wanna go home," she whispered.

Her voice came back to him, the words she had sung to let them know she was inside the house. Swallowing hard, he stood up and reached a hand out to help her up.

"Come on."

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They were quiet for a long time as Hotch drove. Dave and Emily and JJ had all hugged her tightly, but none wanted to intrude. Neither she nor their boss seemed up to company, and letting them drive back alone seemed like the best idea.

And even if he didn't know what to say, Hotch was grateful for the time alone with Cara.

"Where are we going?" she asked suddenly, breaking the silence.

"Jack is at the office."

She frowned. "Why?"

His hands tightened on the steering wheel. "When he found out...when I told him that a bad man had taken you...he refused to go home. He said he had to work the case too, to make sure that you came home safely." Hotch paused. "He and Jessica have been praying for you," he added quietly.

Tears spilled down her cheeks, tears that she hadn't even realized had been building. Wiping them away with a shaky hand, she opened her mouth to say something in response, but there was nothing there. Instead, she shook her head, glancing over at him.

Hotch nodded. "I know," he whispered.

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She had never been to Quantico before, but nothing about the experience was sticking. Her attention kept drifting as Hotch signed her in and got her a pass. Her eyes wandered over each member of the team, resting on them, not really thinking anything at all. Morgan only met her eyes for a moment, but Emily and JJ were right there, kind expressions giving her whatever support they could without words. Dave stayed somewhere behind her right shoulder, a steadying presence she was unfamiliar with. But he was right there, and for the first time in days, she felt like she might be on solid ground. And then there was Hotch, his hand drifting to her lower back as he led her out of the elevator. He was never more than a few inches away.

Cara wondered if it was odd that she wanted them all even closer.

"Cara!"

She didn't have time to brace herself. The little boy barreled down the small set of stairs and across the floor so fast that she just bent down and met him, sweeping him up into her arms. She hadn't realized just how much she had missed him until he was clinging to her, and she held him tightly, stroking the back of his head.

"It's okay," she breathed. "It's okay." She said it over and over again, losing track of the words as they just fell out of her.

He just squeezed her tighter.

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Jack was still clinging to her when they walked through the front door. Hotch watched the way she held him, almost as though she were convincing herself that he was really there. The two of them hadn't spoken on the ride home - Cara had simply reached her arm back and taken his hand, holding it the whole time.

"I imagine you'd like to get some rest," he said quietly.

Her eyes opened slowly and she sighed. "Actually...all I really want is a long hot shower."

He nodded. "Of course." Not wanting to startle his son, he placed a gentle hand on Jack's back. "It's late, buddy. I think it's time you went to bed."

The little boy pulled back slightly. "I want Cara to sing to me."

"Maybe tomorrow night -"

Cara laid a hand on his arm, warm through his shirt. "It's okay," she whispered. "I want to. I can take my shower after."

He followed them up the stairs, not knowing what else to do. They were quiet as they got Jack changed into his pajamas and into the bathroom to brush his teeth. There seemed to be a quiet understanding between the two, a comfort in the knowledge that they were together again. Hotch hadn't realized just how deep their connection was, and now that he was seeing them like this...it made something deep inside of him ache.

"What song do you want tonight?" Cara asked softly as she tucked him in.

"Anything," was the reply, his little hand once again clutching hers.

She nodded, and it was only a moment before she began to sing.

_At times life is wicked and I just can't see the light_

_A silver lining sometimes isn't enough_

_To make some wrongs seem right_

_Whatever life brings_

_I've been through everything_

_And now I'm on my knees again_

_But I know I must go on_

_Although I hurt I must be strong_

_Because inside I know that many feel this way_

_Children don't stop dancing_

_Believe you can fly_

_Away...away_

_At times life's unfair and you know it's plain to see_

_Hey God I know I'm just a dot in this world_

_Have you forgot about me?_

_Whatever life brings_

_I've been through everything_

_And now I'm on my knees again_

_But I know I must go on_

_Although I hurt I must be strong_

_Because inside I know that many feel this way_

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He was sitting on the couch when she came down from her shower, leaning forward with his arms pressed against his thighs. She had thought about just going to bed - her body was practically screaming at her - but she wasn't quite sure she was ready to face the darkness.

"Hey," she said quietly, tucking her wet hair behind her ears.

He looked up at the sound of her voice, leaning back slowly into the cushions. "Hey. I thought you'd be in bed."

Cara shrugged. "Is it okay if I sit?" He nodded, and she sank down next to him, tucking her knees up against her chest. "You looked pretty lost in thought there."

He hesitated for a moment. "I was debating with myself...whether or not I should tell you..."

"Tell me what?"

Another pause. "About Haley. What happened to her. It might make you want to leave."

She turned her body so that she was facing him, her head leaning to the side against the back of the couch. "Please tell me," she whispered.

Hotch swallowed hard, hands clenched to keep them from shaking. He didn't meet her eyes. "She...she was killed by a man I failed to catch. A man who offered me a deal if I would just stop hunting him. It was a deal I couldn't take. So he..." Another swallow. "He hunted my family down and he killed her while I was on the phone with her. And Jack...he was there. He hid, and he survived, but he was there. He heard the gunshot that killed his mother."

Cara watched him, not caring about the tears once again falling from her eyes. Things were slowly starting to fall into place - the tension in the house, the uncertainty in Hotch's eyes when he hugged his son. Everything he did had such a weight to it, and now she understood that it was the weight of guilt. He was still trying so hard to find his way.

Slowly, she reached out and rested her hand on his. He flinched, but she had been expecting that, and she didn't pull away. She wondered if the walls he had built had started with Haley's death, or some time before that. It was obvious that he wasn't used to being touched, that he wasn't accustomed to letting people in. But she couldn't let him stay like that - not when he had the potential to be the most amazing father and friend.

"And why would that make me leave?" she asked quietly.

He stared down at their hands. "You deserve to know what you're getting into. The people I care about...they're not safe."

"They are safe," she said firmly. "We _are_ safe. This had nothing to do with you. They took me because of my job."

Hotch shook his head. "The people I deal with -"

"Do you know why I threw that nightstand out the window tonight?"

He stopped, finally turning to look at her. "What?"

"Tonight. Do you know why I chose tonight to escape?"

Hotch shook his head. "I thought it was because you had heard JJ, that you knew we were coming..." He trailed off. "But that would have made you sit tight and wait for us instead of risking it." He frowned. "Why did you risk it?"

Her bottom lip trembled as she remembered the look in Ellen's eyes, and she tightened her grip on his hand. "She was so happy with the job I'd been doing. Said I was the first girl to really take care of her baby girl. But she knew...she saw that I was sad, and she asked about the little boy she had see me with at the aquarium. Asked me if I missed him. And then...then..." She stopped, closing her eyes briefly. "She said she wanted to make me happy. That she would bring Jack to be with me. That we would be a family."

He stared at her in disbelief. His son had been in danger, and he hadn't even known it. And this woman...someone he had only known for a few months...she had risked her life to keep him safe.

"This isn't something I'm getting myself into, Hotch," she continued. "I'm already in. You and Jack are my family, whether you realize it or not. I'm not leaving."

Squeezing his hand one more time, she unfolded herself and slowly stood up. Then she leaned over and kissed the top of his head, leaving him to stare after her as she climbed up the stairs.

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Her sleep came in painful bouts. She would slide down into darkness for twenty minutes, and then scare herself awake, her brain trying to protect itself from the nightmares she knew lived in that darkness. Her body ached and her head was pounding from exhaustion, but couldn't let herself relax.

And then she turned over and realized that she wasn't alone.

"Jack?" she asked, sitting up slightly. "What are you doing?"

He stepped closer to her bed, Scooby Doo clutched against his chest. "I'm afraid if I close my eyes for too long, you won't be there when I wake up."

"Oh, sweetheart," she whispered, pulling the covers back. "Come on."

He climbed in and snuggled against her, his eyes immediately sliding shut. Letting her head sink into the pillow, Cara watched him as he slept, wondering how on earth her life had come to this moment.

And yet...even with everything that had happened in the past few days, she wouldn't trade it.

Not for anything.


	18. survivor's guilt

**A/N: Thanks to all the lovely reviews. I'm so glad you guys are enjoying this story. And don't worry! I'm not finished with Cara and Hotch yet :) **

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Hotch sighed as he made himself a cup of tea. He hadn't had a good relationship with sleep in years, but this was something different. Every night he would drift off, but within a couple of hours, his eyes would snap open and he'd be completely awake. There were no nightmares that he could remember, but he'd be unable to fall back asleep regardless. And he knew what it was.

Cara.

He knew that she was safe. The UNSUBs had been caught, and they weren't going to take her again. But every night, he had to check, to make sure that she was really there.

Two weeks, and he couldn't stop.

Jack had finally stopped sneaking into her room a few days ago, apparently convinced that she wasn't leaving again. The little boy was holding up surprisingly well, his smile quick to return. Even Cara seemed more well-adjusted than she should be – outside of that first night, she didn't talk about what had happened when she was taken. But she didn't hesitate to take Jack out to the park or the library, keeping them on the same schedule they had been on before. Hotch frowned deeply. She shouldn't have been doing so well. He wondered what was going on inside, if she was in some kind of pain that he couldn't see –

He heard a cry from upstairs, and his heart stopped. Quickly turning off the stove, he moved toward the stairs, taking them two at a time as he made his way to his son's room. Jack was curled up in bed, Scooby Doo clutched to his chest and the covers kicked away, sleeping peacefully.

Which meant the noise had come from Cara's room.

He tried to be quiet as he pushed her door open, hesitant at invading her privacy this way. But when he saw her pained expression, and the sweat that had popped out on her forehead as she turned from side to side, he went right in.

He didn't want to wake her. Jack's voice rang in his head as the little boy explained that if you woke up right after a bad dream, you couldn't help but remember it. Cara had told him that, and though Hotch wasn't entire sure if it was true or not, he didn't want to risk it. Especially not when the dream looked like it was an exceptionally unpleasant one. He sat down gingerly on the edge of her bed and reached out, taking one of her hands in his.

"I wish I could help," he murmured. "I know that you sing to Jack…that you've sung for me, and it makes both of us sleep better." He shook his head, mouth twitching. "Trust me, though, you don't want to hear me sing. It wouldn't help matters." Wincing at the way her face contorted, he reached out with his free hand and pushed the hair back from her eyes. "I can stay with you, though," he said. "That I can do."

And he did.

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Cara smiled as she poked her head around the door. "Come on, little man. You done getting dressed yet?"

Jack mumbled something as he fought to get his shirt over his head. When he got stuck, though, she came in and untangled him. "What was that?"

"Where are we going?" he asked, his hair sticking up in odd places.

"We've got a big day today."

"We do?"

"Yep."

"Why?"

She winked, smoothing out his hair. "Can you keep a secret?"

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Hotch glared at the mountain of paperwork on his desk, wondering how it grew to monstrous proportions whenever he had his back turned. He had been hoping to get home for dinner that night – he wanted to sit down with Cara, to ask her how she was really doing. He wasn't sure she would open up to him, but he had to at least make the effort. He knew what it was like to carry things with you, things that ate away at you while you showed a brave face to the world, until eventually it all falls apart. He didn't want that to happen to her.

Work, of course, had other plans.

"Don't even think about it."

He looked up to see Dave standing there, a stern expression on his face.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, don't even think about sitting here and finishing all of that paperwork."

Hotch sighed. "Dave –"

"Don't 'Dave' me, Aaron. Cara was nice enough to invite me over for dinner tonight, and the only thing I'm allowed to bring is a bottle of wine and you. I have explicit orders to make sure you come home."

Hotch's mouth twitched up into a small smile. "She really does take good care of me."

"You're lucky she even puts up with you. Now come on, let's go."

It seemed he really didn't have a choice, and he wasn't going to complain about it, either. Setting his pen down, Hotch gathered his things and followed Dave out the door.

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The last thing he expected to see when he got home was his entire team, as well as Cara and Jack, smiling at him as they stood in the living room. He couldn't help but laugh, though, as the chorus of 'happy birthday' washed over him, and he was ushered further into the room.

"Happy birthday, Daddy!" Jack shouted as his father picked him up. "Did we surprise you?"

"You definitely did!" He gave Dave a mock glare. "It seems certain people were lying to me."

Dave shrugged. "Simply omitting certain things. For your own good."

Cara shook her head and stepped forward. "It was my doing. I thought you could use a pleasant surprise."

Hotch looked at her in surprise. "This was your idea?" He wasn't quite sure why, but the idea that she had put so much thought into his birthday touched him.

She nodded. "Come on. Dinner is ready."

He followed her into the kitchen as everyone else headed for the dining room. "Here, let me help you." It was then that he noticed her wince as she reached for one of the dishes next to the stove. Frowning, he watched her carefully for a moment. "Is your back still hurting you?"

She didn't quite meet his eyes. "A little."

"It's been a couple of weeks. It should be healing." His frown deepened. "Unless it was worse than you let on."

"It's just a pulled muscle, Hotch." Her jaw tightened just a little bit. "Maybe more than one."

"You should see a doctor."

"I did."

That stopped him for a minute. "What did he say?"

"That I pulled a muscle. Gave me some painkillers."

"Have you been taking them?"

She gave him a wry smile as she handed him a hot dish. "Are you kidding? I can barely walk on those things, nevermind drive, hold a coherent conversation, or take care of a little boy." She saw his expression tighten, and she rested a hand on his arm. "I'm fine. I just pushed a little further today than I should have. Now come on, dinner will get cold and that is not allowed on your birthday."

He was still frowning, and he wanted to push the subject, but she was already shooing him out of the kitchen. It would have to wait.

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Hotch wasn't the only one who noticed. Dave had had an eye on her all evening, and the two men shared a couple of looks every time they saw the pain or weariness weighing down on her. She was good at hiding it, but she was surrounded by profilers, and a few of them were bound to notice.

When it came time for dessert, Dave was on his feet immediately, following her to the kitchen.

"Would it kill you to let someone else do the work around here?" he asked.

Cara rolled her eyes. "I'm just getting the cake, Dave."

"And you've been slaving away all day. Let an old man help you out."

Giving him a warm smile, she handed him the pan and kissed his cheek. "You're not old, Dave."

He grunted. "Am too."

She winked as she led him back to the dining room. "Emily doesn't think so."

His mouth dropped open for a moment, but then they were back with the others, singing 'happy birthday' once again. Hotch's expression still bordered on stoic, but Dave could see the light in his friend's eyes, and he knew that he was having more fun than he had in a long time. There had even been times that he had laughed heartily during the evening, letting himself enjoy the moment instead of being weighed down by regrets and responsibilities.

"Is that chocolate cheesecake?" he asked.

Cara nodded. "Yep."

He looked up at her. "I love cheesecake."

"A little birdie shared that with me." She handed him the knife. "I just hope you like this one." She made a face as the cake was passed out and people began eating. "Actually, I'm hoping you all like it, because everyone is going home with a slice."

Morgan's tongue was rolling around in his mouth. "Anybody who doesn't want theirs can pass it right over here." He gave Cara an appreciative look. "Damn, woman. This cake is amazing."

"Bad word, Unca Derek!" Jack scolded, wagging his fork at the agent.

The table erupted into laughter.

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"Don't even think about it."

Cara turned to see Hotch standing behind her, rolling up his shirt sleeves. "What?"

"The dishes. There's no way I'm letting you do them. Not after all the hard work you did today – and with a little boy to watch after on top of it."

"Please, Jack loves to help in the kitchen."

He put on a stern face. "Back away from the sink, Cara. I'm doing the dishes." She gave him a smirk as she stepped aside, and he smiled at her. "You should go get some sleep. You look wiped out."

She ran a hand across her brow, and he saw something other than weariness flash across her eyes. "I am pretty tired. You're sure you've got this?"

"Trust me, it's not my first time doing dishes."

She gave him a warm smile and squeezed his arm before leaning in and kissing his cheek. "Happy birthday, Aaron."

He was still trying to regain his balance when she reached the stairs, but he managed to find his voice.

"Cara." She turned to look at him. "Thank you. This was…it was exactly what I needed."

She gave him a tired nod and continued up the stairs.

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The house was quiet when he came in, and it only took him a moment to remember that Jack was spending the night with his aunt. Setting his briefcase down on the table, he immediately headed for the refrigerator, hoping that Cara had left something in there for him. He couldn't help but smile at the plate of chicken that he found – he didn't think he'd eaten this well in years.

As he reached for the plate, though, he heard a sudden noise from downstairs, and he stood up quickly. Frowning, he realized that Cara must have been home. He headed for the basement stairs, thinking it would be good to let her know that he was home. He had stayed in the office late all week, and he didn't want her startled if she came upstairs to find him raiding the fridge.

"Cara."

He stopped on the stairs at the voice, until he realized that it was Emily speaking. Slowly, he came down a little further until he could see the basement.

Emily was indeed there, standing in a corner. That seemed odd, at least until he saw that she was simply trying to stay out of Cara's way. Cara, who was punching and kicking the punching bag with a ferocity he hadn't seen in her since he had found her with a gun trained on her captor. Sweat was pouring down her face and arms, and he wondered if her back was still hurting.

"Cara," Emily said again, her voice gentle. She took a step forward. "Just give me something. Anything."

"Profiling me?" she asked, her teeth gritted.

"Like you don't profile us. Especially Hotch. You have to profile the man to take such good care of him and Jack."

"That's just reading people."

Emily shrugged. "Semantics." She paused, tilting her head as she crossed her arms in front of her chest. "It's okay to be angry," she said quietly. "I'm surprised you haven't snapped before now."

Cara threw a few more punches. "I was hoping it would pass."

"A man kidnapped you. They made you take care of their imaginary baby. It's only natural –"

A powerful kick sent the bag flying. "You think I'm mad at them?"

Emily stopped, caught off-guard. "Anyone would be."

Cara steadied the bag with her hands, shaking her head. "You know…Jack was practically attached to my hip the first week I was back. He slept with me, sat on my lap wherever we went…"

"It's understandable," Emily said carefully. "After losing his mother…"

The other woman lashed out with both fists, slamming them into the bag. "That's my point!" She took a deep breath, closing her eyes for a moment. "That little boy lost his mother because of some maniac. Why did I come back, and not her!"

Hotch felt his legs go weak, and he closed his own eyes. The one thing he hadn't expected her to go through – survivor's guilt.

Emily took another step forward. "Cara –"

She started to break, her lips trembling. "I can feel it," she whispered. "When Hotch looks at me. He wonders why I came back and she couldn't. Why she had to die and I got to live."

His eyes snapped open – it was like she had taken the thoughts right out of his head. He didn't blame her. He couldn't. But he had laid awake for nights, wondering what was different, why one woman had been returned to Jack and not the other.

"Don't do this," Emily whispered, coming closer.

Cara pointed up the stairs behind her without looking. "Jack deserves his mother! Hotch deserves the woman he loved! And instead…instead they got me! It's not fair, Emily!"

Her tears choked her then, and her shoulders began to shake as one hand covered her eyes. Sobs wracked through her body and her knees dropped her, but Emily was right there, catching her, holding her tightly to her as they both sank to the ground. There was nothing she could say, nothing to make this better. But she wouldn't let her new friend suffer alone.

A noise reached her ears, and she raised her eyes, surprised to see Hotch sitting on the stairs, his face drawn and pained. She knew then that he had heard everything, and as he met her gaze, all she could do was nod in acknowledgment.

He returned the gesture, his eyes moving to rest on Cara. He wanted to go to her, to offer her any comfort that he could. But his limbs wouldn't move, and he was frozen.

They stayed in silence.


	19. family

He could smell the pumpkin before he'd even made it to the front door. The air had taken on a distinct chill as they passed into November, and his body wanted nothing more than to get inside where it was warm. The glow spilling out the windows beckoned, and he felt the tension of the day begin to slide from his shoulders as he came through the door.

"Daddy!"

Hotch couldn't help but laugh at hi son, standing on a step stool in the kitchen, his hair streaked with flour. Cara was quite the sight as well, hair wild around her shoulders, and her black t-shirt splashed with white and orange. Her smile was wide, and he found himself meeting it with a smaller version of his own.

"I'm never sure if I'm walking into a bakery or a house."

"Can't it be both?" Cara asked, handing him a cookie decorated like a pumpkin.

He sighed dramatically. "The two of you are going to make me fat."

"I think you kick down enough doors to stay in shape."

"I see Morgan's been telling stories again." He closed his eyes as he took a bite and sank down onto the stool. "These are delicious."

Her smile widened, and she turned to Jack, patting him on the bottom. "Go clean up for dinner, munchkin."

"Are we gonna have cookies for dessert?"

"Of course. That's why we made them." Cara winked at Hotch. "And then Daddy can take them to work and share them with his friends."

"Aunt Pen will love them," Jack said sagely. "Cookies are her favorite."

She laughed. "As well as sparkly things and your Uncle Derek. Now to the bathroom with you."

Jack clapped his hands twice, sending a spray of flour into the air before jumping down from the stool and running upstairs. Cara and Hotch watched him go, and then her eyes slid back to Hotch before she focused on getting the rest of the cookies off of the baking pan.

"I need to ask you something," she said quietly.

He frowned slightly, hearing the hesitation in her voice. "Okay."

"Can I…" She paused, shifting slightly. "Would it be okay if I stayed here for Thanksgiving?"

His frown deepened. "You don't want to spend it with your family?"

She shrugged, not quite meeting his eyes, hoping he wouldn't push the subject. "It seems silly to go home for a couple of days."

He knew there was more to it than that, but he could also see that she didn't want to talk about it. And she had more than respected his boundaries – he wouldn't try to push past hers.

"You're always welcome here," he said firmly. "We'd love to have you." His lips twitched as he looked at the cookies. "Not to mention that then we'd get to have your desserts."

She chuckled, relieved at his answer. "So you're just using me for my baking skills?"

"Am I that transparent?"

Cara smirked. "Only when it comes to food."

"Dave?"

He smiled at her as she stared at him in surprise. "Hi."

"What are you doing here?" She froze, breath catching in her throat. "Hotch –"

Dave waved a hand. "He's fine. Buried in paperwork, but fine." He shrugged. "He mentioned that Jack was having dinner with Jessica tonight, and I thought that maybe you'd like to hang out with an old man."

She rolled her eyes, grabbing her jacket and purse before locking the door behind her. "Always with the old jokes."

He grunted as they walked. "Always with the flattery."

"I only speak the truth."

"Right."

She moved toward the car, sliding into the passenger seat. "So where are we going?"

"To get the best lasagna in D.C."

"Mmm. Italian food. You speak my language, Dave."

He winked at her. "Everyone should speak Italian."

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She knew what he was doing. Even as Dave talked to her about work and old movies, Cara watched his eyes and mannerisms. He was stalling, biding his time until he could get to what was really on his mind. She wondered if he and Emily realized how alike they were when it came to broaching difficult subjects.

He waited until their food arrived.

"So how are you?" he asked, eyes locked on his plate as he added pepper flakes to his dish.

She decided to play along with his casual tone. "I'm fine."

"Oh really?"

"Really. Things are good right now."

Dave watched her carefully, his eyes probing. Cara met his gaze, sipping at her wine, waiting for him to make whatever decision he was working on.

"You've got one hell of a poker face, kiddo."

"I'm fine, Dave."

"Aaron is my best friend."

She frowned slightly, unsure of where he was going. "I know."

"We talk." Her frown deepened and he sighed. "I know about the nightmares, Cara. I know that not everything is okay."

Setting down her glass, she sighed. "I'm not sure what you want from me," she said quietly.

"I understand that you might not want to open up to me. I get that. But you need to be able to admit that you're not okay once in awhile. You need to let people in, let them help you." He smirked. "Instead of pretending your back doesn't hurt when you're practically sweating from the pain."

Cara rolled her eyes. "My back really doesn't hurt anymore."

Dave chuckled. "I know." Looking at her seriously again, he reached out and touched her hand. "You're good at taking care of other people. You throw yourself into it, giving everything you have to Jack and Hotch. And that's good – hell, it's what they need. But they also need to know that they can take care of you once in awhile. It's what a family does."

She took a deep breath, eyes moving over the other patrons in the restaurant as she tried to gather her thoughts. Dave was right – she knew that. But running was something that she was good at, and she was afraid that if she stopped, if she actually told someone about her demons, then she wouldn't be free of them anymore.

But then again, maybe she wasn't free after all.

"I'm not really sure where to start," she whispered.

"Neither was he. But he told you about Haley."

Cara nodded. He had, and she had seen how difficult it had been for him. It was one thing that they had in common – neither of them were used to letting people take care of them. But if it was something he had to learn, then so did she.

Pushing back the tears that had begun threatening, she gave Dave an accusing glare. "You're a crafty old man, David Rossi."

He laughed at that, the sound breaking the weight that had been gathering around them. "Now I'm old, huh?"

"You're also a sentimental old man. Be nice, or I'll ruin your reputation."

His eyebrows shot up. "Now who's crafty?"

They both laughed, the conversation moving on to other things.

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Hotch was in the kitchen when she got home, unloading the dishwasher. He looked up as the door opened, and Cara gave him a small smile.

"You're home."

"I just got in. I was a little surprised you were gone." His mouth twitched. "I guess I've gotten used to you always being here."

"Dave stopped by, took me to dinner."

His eyebrows rose in surprise. "Really?"

She nodded. "He wanted to see how I was really doing."

"And how are you?"

She could hear it in his voice – he wasn't asking idly. Dave's words still echoing in her head, she decided to give him some honesty in return. "I'm tired."

He stopped, turning to face her. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

Giving him a small smile, she handed him the phone. "You can order pizza instead of me cooking tonight."

Hotch nodded, giving her a smile of his own. "I can do that."


	20. i'd come for you

**A/N: The song is "I'd Come For You" by Nickelback**

"Cara?"

She smiled down at the little boy as she tucked him in. "Yeah?"

"Is Daddy gonna be home for Thanksgivin'?"

"He's gonna try. Hopefully he can catch the bad guys in time and make it back here."

Jack frowned. "What if he can't?"

Cara ran her hand over his forehead, brushing away the wrinkle in his brow. "Then we'll call him and make sure he knows that we're thinking about him."

"And we'll save him food?"

"Of course."

He nodded at that, and she almost laughed at his serious expression. She had learned early on that Hotch was often in his son's thoughts, even if he didn't realize it.

"Cara?"

This time she let out a small chuckle. "Yes, Jack?"

"Where's your daddy?"

The question made her freeze, her smile wanting to twist into a grimace. Jack watched her closely, though, and she forced herself to smooth out his blanket and sit beside him, almost shaking with the effort of keeping her face neutral.

"He's in Maine, sweetheart."

"Where you grew up?"

"Yep."

"Does he catch bad guys like my daddy?"

Cara shook her head. "No, my daddy works in a big warehouse loading trucks."

"What about your mommy?"

Swallowing hard, she leaned down and poked his nose gently. "You know what? It's time for little boys to be sleeping."

"Will you sing to me?" he asked, his mind already moving on to other things.

Cara nodded. "I will always sing to you, buddy," she whispered.

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She sighed when she saw his name come up on her caller id, but she tried to keep her voice light as she answered.

"You're not gonna make it, are you?"

"Ye of little faith," Hotch replied. "We're getting on the jet in a few minutes."

Her eyebrows shot up. "Seriously?"

"We caught the guy this afternoon and rushed through the paperwork. Everyone just wants to go home."

"Understandable." Cara paused, wrinkling her nose. "Everyone missed their flights home for the holiday, didn't they?"

He sighed, and she knew he felt badly for his team. "Every last one of them. There's nothing left on any of the airlines. Morgan was close enough that he headed out as soon as we wrapped up. He'll end up driving all night, but he'll make it home. And he dragged Reid with him."

She chuckled. "Sounds like Morgan." Thinking for a minute, she did some time tables in her head. "You should invite them."

"Invite who?"

"The team. To Thanksgiving dinner."

There was a pause, and she wondered if she had overstepped herself. "That's short notice for adding six people to dinner."

She shrugged, despite the fact that he couldn't see her, backpedaling quickly. "Sorry. If you don't want to –"

"No, wait. I just meant that…you said you were cooking dinner for us. I don't want you to have to go out of your way to make extra food. Six people is a lot."

"They're your family, right?"

"What?"

"Your team. They're family, right?"

"Yes."

"Their holiday plans got ruined because of some serial killer. That's not exactly fair. We've got the room, and I can make the extra food. Holidays aren't about perfect meals. I'm sure we could serve pizza and they'd enjoy it more than having to spend the day alone."

"You've got a point. Hang on a second."

She heard a murmur of low voices on the other end, and she imagined that he was asking the rest of his team if they wanted to come. Pushing herself up from the couch, she went hunting for her shoes and purse, knowing that she was going to have to make a run to the store if any of them accepted the invitation. Maybe Jessica could come watch Jack for a little bit –"

"Cara?"

She found her shoes hiding behind a chair. "Yeah?"

"Everyone accepted, though JJ wants to make sure you can handle Will and Henry."

Cara rolled her eyes. "Well, the LaMontagne men can be a handful, but I think I've got it covered."

She thought she heard a quiet chuckle. "So I'll see you in a few hours then."

"Sounds good. Drive safe once you get off the plane – it rained and the roads are a little slick."

"Thanks for the heads up." There was another murmur. "We're boarding now."

"Bye, Hotch."

"Bye."

She hung up and immediately starting dialing Jessie's number when a sound on the staircase made her look up. Jack was standing there in his pajamas, rubbing at his eyes, hair sticking up in every direction.

"Where you goin'?" he asked, yawning loudly.

Setting her phone down, Cara put her hands on her hips. "Wanna run to the store with me?"

"I'm a'pposed to be in bed," he said, frowning.

"We need some more stuff for dinner tomorrow. We've got special friends coming."

"Really? Who?"

"It's a surprise, munchkin! You wanna go to the store or not?"

He thought about it for a moment and then held up his stuffed animal. "Can Scooby come?"

Cara laughed and climbed the stairs, picking the little boy up. "Of course he can."

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The plane was quiet as they made their way home, most everyone staring out the windows as they got lost in thought. Dave watched them all for a few minutes as he sipped at his scotch, eventually moving forward and taking a seat next to Hotch.

"That was awfully nice of Cara," he murmured quietly. "Inviting all of us to dinner."

Hotch nodded. "I can't help wonder what she's running from, though." When his friend frowned, he shrugged. "She throws herself into doing for others, Dave. I know you see it. We all do. And I think that at least half of it is just who she is – she enjoys helping people."

"And the rest of it?"

"I don't know. I just get this feeling that at least some of it is fear. Trying to make the home she never had, or trying to keep everyone happy…I can't put my finger on it exactly." His mouth twitched. "And she's about as good as I am about opening up."

Dave nodded. "Strange, isn't it? For someone so open and caring, she isn't big on sharing anything about her past."

"She's been spending time with Prentiss and JJ…do you think there's a chance she's opening up to them?"

"Sure, there's a chance. I don't think it's likely, though. Cara plays her cards close to her chest." He gave his friend a sideways glance. "They wouldn't tell you anything she shared, though."

"I know that. I just…I want her to have someone to talk to. You've said it before – she moved away from family and friends, and she spends all day with a little boy. I don't want her to feel isolated."

"But she is making friends, Hotch. She hangs out with Emily and JJ. She went out to dinner with me the other night. She sees JJ and Will at church…I don't think you have to worry about her too much."

He smirked, and it didn't go unnoticed by Hotch.

"What?"

Dave shrugged. "I was just remembering a conversation we had a few months ago about you and Cara and the possibility of you actually making a friend. It would appear that I was right."

"You take far too much pleasure in that, Dave."

"I'm just happy you have a friend."

"I can always uninvite you to dinner."

Dave smiled. "Cara will sneak me food. She hates to see people go unfed."

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"Alright," Hotch said, walking into the kitchen and rolling up his sleeves. "How can I help?"

Cara looked up from her mixing bowl. "I think I've actually got it all covered."

He looked around at all the dishes and food. "You really went all out."

She shrugged. "It's Thanksgiving, and I like to cook." She gestured to the living room. "Now go. Socialize."

"I'm not leaving you back here like some servant. I may not be that good in the kitchen, but I can help a little."

She gave him a small smile and shrugged again. "I guess I'm just used to taking care of everything myself. I grew up in a house where things ran more smoothly if everything was done before someone had a chance to ask you to do it. So I got good at doing everything."

He stared at her for a moment, surprised at the bit of history. "You shared."

Rolling her eyes, she turned her attention to the potatoes. "A little. And it's all you're getting for right now, too."

"Fair enough. It's not like I shared everything in one go, either."

Biting her bottom lip, she hesitated slightly. "Maybe we should sit down some time, and give each other five questions. Any five questions, and the other person has to answer honestly."

Hotch took a sip from his wine. "That sounds terrifying. And probably very therapeutic."

Cara chuckled. "There will probably need to be alcohol involved." She handed him a bowl and a rolling pin. "Can you roll out dough?"

Setting his glass down, he cracked his knuckles. "I can at least try my hand at it."

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"I think you might need to roll me out of here," Emily said, leaning back in her chair. "I can't remember the last time I ate that much."

"You?" Dave questioned. "I'm fairly certain Will and I took on that pumpkin pie all by ourselves."

"I was too distracted by the fudge," JJ confessed.

"Biscuits," Hotch added.

"How did you cook all this, darlin'?" Will asked, looking over at Cara. "You could have fed an army on this table."

Hotch cut in before she could answer. "She didn't sleep."

"I slept a little," she protested.

"Right. On the couch for about an hour." When she just stared at him, he shrugged. "I don't sleep much either."

"I've noticed. Speaking of sleep…" She turned her head to look at Jack. "You're almost asleep in your pie, little man."

"Want me to take you upstairs, buddy?" Hotch asked.

Jack just shook his head, slowly climbing down from his chair. Walking around the table, he stopped at Cara, holding out his arms. She gave him a warm smile and picked him up, sighing happily when he curled up in her lap.

"Will you sing to me?" he asked, his voice drowsy.

"Upstairs?"

"Here."

She glanced around the table. "In front of everyone else?"

"Please?"

It had been a long time since she'd had a real audience, but she couldn't say no to him. Running her fingers through his hair, she settled back against the chair. "What song?"

"Our song."

"You two have a song?" Hotch asked.

Cara opened her mouth to answer, but Jack beat her to it. "There's a song for you, Daddy, and there's one for me. They're ours and nobody else's."

He knew what song his son meant, and even with the strides they'd made, Hotch couldn't quite meet Cara's gaze. But she was focused on Jack, and she quietly began to sing.

I_ was blindfolded, but now I'm seeing_

_My mind was closing, now I'm believing_

_I finally know just what it means to let someone in_

_To see the side of me that no one does or ever will_

_So if your ever lost and find yourself all alone_

_I'd search forever just to bring you home,_

_Here and now this I vow_

_By now you'd know that I'd come for you_

_No one but you, yes I'd come for you_

_But only if you told me to_

_And I'd fight for you_

_I'd lie, it's true_

_Give my life for you_

_You know I'd always come for you_

_No matter what gets in my way_

_As long as there's still life in me_

_No matter what, remember you know I'll always come for you_

_I'd crawl across this world for you_

_Do anything you want me to_

_No matter what, remember you know I'll always come for you_

_You know I'll always come for you_

His heavy eyelids stayed closed, and she could feel his even breathing against her chest. Not looking up at the people sitting around her, Cara just leaned down and kissed the top of his head.

"Sleep well, little one," she whispered.


	21. fly me away

She got lost in the buildings and cars that flew past. She wasn't sure if she wanted them to speed up or slow down – one would bring her closer to leaving, but also returning, while the other would delay the inevitable. Regardless of her own misgivings, though, time moved at its tireless pace. Traffic was steady, and they reached the airport right on time, Hotch pulling up to the curb to let her off.

She expected a short goodbye, but when she turned to face him, Hotch was already getting out. Cara followed slowly, meeting him at the back of the car and smiling as he pulled her suitcase out.

"Thanks," she said quietly.

He opened his mouth to answer, but she heard one of the back windows roll down, and she moved over to the door, smiling at Jack sitting there.

"Hey, buddy."

His face was somber. "I don't want you to go."

She didn't want to go either. "I know. But it will only be for a few days and then I'll be back. And we'll play in the snow and go to the library and bake cookies, okay?"

His eyes were still sad, but he nodded. "Okay."

Leaning in, Cara kissed him on the forehead. "You and Daddy have a good Christmas. And look in the freezer when you get back. I left you guys a present."

Jack's expression lit up. "What is it?"

She winked at him. "Chocolate cheesecake," she whispered.

"That's Daddy's favorite!"

Cara smiled. "I know." She kissed him again. "Merry Christmas, Jack."

"Merry Christmas, Cara."

She turned away, fighting back a lump in her throat, to find Hotch standing there uncomfortably, hands in his pockets. Forcing a smile onto her face, she bent down and retrieved her bag from the sidewalk.

"I'll be back in a few days."

He knew that she didn't want to go. He wanted to ask why, or at the least, tell her she could stay with them for the holiday. But he wasn't sure he had the right to do the former, and he knew she would turn down the latter. Whatever was waiting for her in Maine, Cara needed to go there and face it, for reasons of her own.

"We'll be here," he said. "Let me know when you get in. So that we know you made it safely."

She nodded, quashing the sudden desire to hug him tightly. She already pushed his bounds with physical contact on a usual basis, but she didn't want to make him uneasy in public. Instead, she reached out and rested her hand on his arm, squeezing tightly.

"Merry Christmas, Hotch."

He waited until she was through the doors and out of sight. "Merry Christmas, Cara," he whispered.

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Her flight landed at a nearly-empty airport, flights cancelled and delayed from the impending storm. Snow had already started to fall, and Cara stared at it as she stood in front of the windows. She remembered the snow storms back in high school, when she and her best friend would lock themselves in the house while the wind howled and watch movies and eat pizza. It was one of the only fond memories she had left behind, though she wasn't sure if she wanted to smile or cry at the thought. Making a mental note to call her friend soon, she pulled out her phone and sent Hotch a quick text.

_- Made it here in one piece. Storm's gonna hit soon –_

His response was quick, and she wondered if he had been waiting for a message.

_- Be safe and try to have a good time. Jack says hi –_

Chuckling quietly, Cara shut her phone and looked around. She needed a rental with 4-wheel drive, and she needed to get going before the roads become nasty. Seeing the car kiosk, she picked up her bag and headed over.

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Hotch sighed, staring at the Christmas tree as it lit up the living room and kitchen. He had lain in bed for two hours before deciding that sleep just wasn't going to come, and now he was sitting at the counter, a bowl of soggy Cheerios in front of him.

He hadn't realized how much he relied on Cara. It wasn't taking care of Jack, or the chores…he could handle those things. But it was so much easier to smile when she was there, baking, filling the house with music.

He wanted his son to enjoy the holiday, to remember that there were reasons to smile and laugh. But he could feel the weight of Haley's absence hanging heavy in every room. Hotch felt choked by his own guilt, like a fraud every time he smiled at Jack – the little boy should be with his mother, putting out cookies for Santa and wrapping presents.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he wondered if either he or Jack would have made it this far if Cara hadn't come into their lives.

He wanted to call her, but he discarded the idea quickly. She was with her family, doing her own thing, and she deserved the time off. She was always cooking or taking Jack somewhere when she was with them – he imagined she must be thankful to be able to relax finally. He didn't mean to put so much on her shoulders, but she had just slipped into the role so well that it felt like she belonged there, a part of their little family.

It had been a long time since he'd had a friend outside of his team, and he missed her.

"Daddy?"

His head snapped up, and he saw Jack coming down the stairs, Scooby trailing behind him.

"Hey, buddy. What's wrong?"

Jack shrugged, climbing up onto the stool next to him, his head barely peeking out over the counter. "Can't sleep."

Hotch frowned. "Bad dreams?"

Jack shook his head. "I miss Mommy," he said quietly.

"Me too."

"Do your insides hurt sometimes?" he asked, his voice small in the shadows. "When you think about Mommy?"

Hotch felt like he'd been punched in the stomach. "Yeah," he croaked. "They do." He reached out, running his hand over Jack's head. "I wish I could make that hurt stop for you."

"It doesn't always hurt so much. When Cara's here. Aunt JJ says that friends make it better sometimes."

He gave his son a watery smile. "Your Aunt JJ is very smart."

"She'll be home soon, right?" Jack asked.

"Cara?" The little boy nodded. "Yeah. Couple more days, buddy, and she'll be home."

Jack looked up at his father. "Are you sad, Daddy?"

"A little bit," Hotch admitted.

"I can make it better."

He gave him a small smile. "Oh yeah?"

Jack nodded. "You look in the freezer. Cara left us a present."

Hotch frowned slightly at that, but got up and went to the freezer. They had been eating leftovers since Cara left, and he hadn't gone in there for awhile. Jack slid down from his stool, heading over to the desk where Cara's computer sat.

"Should you be touching that?" Hotch asked.

"There's songs for me, Daddy. Cara said I could play them when I wanted to." He frowned. "I don't know what buttons to push, though."

Leaving the freezer for the moment, Hotch walked over to the desk. Looking at her list of music, he smiled when he saw something labeled "Jack's playlist." He clicked a few buttons, and soft music filled the room.

"Much better," Jack nodded. "Did you get our present?"

Hotch chuckled. "Not yet."

They made their way back to the kitchen, and he opened the freezer again. A white box sat on the top shelf and he pulled it out, setting it down on the counter in front of Jack.

"What do you think it is?"

Jack grinned. "I already know, silly. It's a surprise for you."

Giving his son a look, Hotch opened the box and lifted the cake out. For a moment, he just stared at the chocolate, touched beyond words.

"It's your favorite, right Daddy?"

"It is." He ruffled Jack's hair. "Are you the little birdie that told her that for my birthday?"

"Nope. That was Aunt Jessie."

"Figures." He moved around the kitchen, gathering two plates and silverware. "Want a piece?"

Jack's eyes lit up. "Really?"

Hotch nodded. "It's Christmas Eve. I say we enjoy our present."

The little boy nodded and he cut them each a small piece. Then they sat and enjoyed it in silence, watching the lights on the tree.

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Cara leaned forward against the edge of the sink, staring out the window at the backyard. The storm had blown over the day before, but everything was blanketed in white, the snow reflecting the sunlight sharply in every direction. She knew it was bitterly cold out, but it looked so beautiful from inside that the only thing she could do was stare at it.

Tearing her eyes away before she blinded herself, she walked to the entrance of the living room. A tree sat in the corner, looking lonely and out of place, the lights on, but dulled by the morning light. Two presents sat underneath the branches, both bearing her father's name.

She turned her attention to the man passed out in the recliner across the room. She had checked on him repeatedly through the night, and though he was breathing just fine, he hadn't moved in hours. Briefly, she closed her eyes, rubbing at the purple bruise peeking out from her sleeve.

She was so tired.

Moving into the room, she pulled another blanket from the couch and covered him up, making sure that he wouldn't catch cold. She tucked it around him loosely and then leaned forward, ignoring the stench of whiskey as she kissed him on the cheek.

"Merry Christmas, Daddy," she whispered.

Bending down, she picked up her suitcase and walked out, making sure to lock the door behind her before opening her phone and dialing.

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"I swear to God, Dave, if this is a case…"

His friend chuckled. "Merry Christmas to you too, Aaron. Don't worry – this is a personal call."

Hotch let out a silent sigh of relief. The idea of having to leave his son on Christmas afternoon was painful – the two of them had had Jessica over for breakfast and spent the rest of the day in their pajamas watching movies. For once, work was the last thing on his mind.

"What's up then?"

There was a small pause. "Cara called me about an hour ago."

Hotch froze, at once wondering what had happened, and why she had called Dave instead of him. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, she's okay. Well…maybe not. She's on a flight back to D.C. as we speak. Wanted to know if I could pick her up."

His frown deepened. "She wasn't supposed to come back for another couple of days." He hesitated. "Did she sound okay, Dave?"

"She sounded…tired. She wasn't crying or overly upset. She just…I think she was done. She said she wanted to come home."

"Then why…" He cleared his throat. "Do you know why she didn't call me?"

"She said she didn't want to ruin your day with Jack. But I was thinking it would be a nice surprise for her if the two of you showed up instead of me. If you're not too busy, that is."

Hotch smiled, looking over at Jack. "You have her flight number?"

Dave grinned.

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Cara sighed in relief as she stepped off the plane and into the terminal. It felt good to be home – she just hoped Hotch didn't mind her showing up two days early without any real notice.

There weren't many travelers on Christmas day, and she made her way down easily toward baggage claim and the exit. She pulled out her phone, staring down at it as she debated calling Hotch. It would be better than just showing up, but she still felt like she was intruding on his holiday. Maybe Dave would let her stay with him for a couple of days…

The phone buzzed in her hand, and she nearly jumped out of her skin. Seeing that it was Hotch, she frowned, bringing it up to her ear.

"Hello?"

"Need a ride?"

Her head snapped up, and she stared in disbelief at Hotch and Jack standing by the baggage claim. The little boy was waving excitedly to her, and Cara felt a wave of emotion well up in her chest. She was sure that Dave had something to do with this, but the fact that Hotch had bundled his son up and driven out to get her…

Moving closer, she set her bag down and then closed her phone. For a moment, all she could do was stare, and then she stepped forward, hugging Hotch tightly. She felt him stiffen against her, but it was only a moment before he relaxed a little, his hold on her solidifying.

"Merry Christmas," he murmured.

Cara laughed, kissing Jack on the cheek and ruffling his hair. "Merry Christmas. You two are a sight for sore eyes, you know." She gave him a long look. "Remind me to thank Dave."

Hotch nodded. "I will."

"Come home and have cheesecake," Jack said, laying his head on his father's shoulder.

She grinned. "Cheesecake, huh?"

Hotch nodded. "Cheesecake and every animated Christmas movie we own."

"Do I get to wear my pj's?"

Jack nodded solemnly. "It's the rules."

Cara poked his nose gently. "Then lead on, little man."


	22. a new leaf

"I think you made his day," Hotch murmured as he pulled Jack's door shut halfway. "You could have called, you know," he continued, following her down the stairs. "Instead of going to Dave."

It was quiet, but she could hear the hurt in his voice, and it surprised her. Though maybe it shouldn't have – she had been trying to convince him that they were friends, and then she had bypassed him by going to Dave. Giving him a small smile, she sat down beside him on the couch.

"I didn't want to upset your Christmas." She rolled her eyes. "And the airport isn't exactly the nicest way to spend a holiday."

He watched her for a moment, leaning back against the cushions. "And yet you chose to fly out on Christmas morning instead of staying with your family."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "This is going to be one of those times when you want to know more than I'm telling, isn't it?"

Hotch shrugged, staring at his hands. "I just want to understand."

For a minute, she didn't say anything at all. She knew this was one of those moments, where she had to give something of herself instead of holding back. Taking a deep breath, she pulled her knees up against her chest and started talking quietly.

"My family wasn't thrilled when I left Maine for college."

"They wanted you to stay closer to home?"

Cara nodded. "Nobody in that family ever leaves. They go to school in-state, they buy houses in the same neighborhoods, they get together for every holiday. They don't understand why anyone would want to be somewhere else."

"But you did."

"We don't exactly see eye-to-eye on most things. Makes family gatherings…somewhat stressful." She paused, staring down at the couch instead of meeting his eyes. "After my mom died, they expected me to move in with my dad. Maybe they even expected me to cling to them. But I couldn't do it. I was seventeen, and I was angry, and I was sick of everything. I just wanted to be on my own. Be on my own and be my own person, you know?"

"Where did you go?"

There was no judgment in his voice, nothing but quiet support to keep telling her story. Cara looked up and gave him a small thankful smile. "I stayed with my best friend and her mom for the rest of high school. And then we went off to college together. And I never really looked back." She took another breath. "Until now. And everyone felt the need to tell me exactly what I was doing wrong with my life – which is everything, by the way – and…it just wouldn't stop. Family is supposed to make you feel loved and comfortable. They don't do that…you and Jack, though…you do. So I decided I'd rather come back as soon as possible and be with the people who make me happy."

There was more to the story. He knew it, and she knew that he knew. But he couldn't expect her to explain everything in one night. With his job, he got used to learning everything about an UNSUB or a victim in a matter of days – but it didn't work like that in personal relationships. It was a lesson worth remembering, and he held his questions back for the moment, seeing the weariness in her eyes. All that mattered was that she was home and safe, and that Jack was happy.

"I'm glad you did," he said quietly. "So is Jack. This was a hard Christmas for him."

"The first one after a loss always is," she replied, her voice almost a whisper. Clearing her throat, she stood up. "Wanna take part in my favorite Christmas tradition?"

Caught off-guard, Hotch blinked up at her. "Sure."

She disappeared into the kitchen for a few minutes before coming back out with two glasses of wine. One by one, she flipped each of the lights out, until only the tree was lit. Then she sat down next to him and passed him a glass, leaning back into the cushions.

"Now what?" he asked.

Cara took a sip and smiled, her face glowing under the lights. "We just sit."

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"I can't believe he didn't even make it to ten," Emily laughed, shaking her head as she stared down at Jack. The little boy snored softly on the couch.

"Well, he did fight an epic snowball battle today," Cara reminded her.

That made Emily laugh even harder. "I don't think I will ever forget seeing Hotch and Dave hunkering down behind little snow forts, lobbing snowballs at each other."

"Like I said, epic." Handing Emily the beers, she picked up the tray of champagne glasses and they headed into the living room. "Alright, boys. Resolution time."

Dave gave her one of his classic looks. "I'm too old for those."

"Right," Emily agreed. "Old dogs, new tricks…"

His look turned into a glare, and Cara bit back a chuckle, turning to Hotch. "And you?"

His expression was pained. "Do I really look the type?"

She sighed and rolled her eyes, turning to her friend. "Fine. Emily?"

The brunette thought for a second. "It's going to sound vague, and cheesy, but...I'm going to stop running this year. And try to believe that good things can happen to me."

It may have sounded lighthearted, but everyone in the room knew the seriousness that lay behind those words. And they knew how much it had cost Emily to say them. Dave's mouth quirked up into a smile as Hotch nodded thoughtfully, and Cara smiled at her friend.

"Those sound like very good resolutions."

"And you?"

"This year..." Cara paused, trying to find the exact words. When they came, she couldn't help but grin wickedly and take a sip of her beer. "This year my demons can kiss my ass."

Emily was the first one with her bottle raised, but the others were quick to join in. "Here, here," Dave called. "Well said, kiddo."

"Ooh!" Emily exclaimed. "Thirty seconds. Switch to champagne."

She passed the glasses out quickly before perching on the arm of Dave's chair, everyone's attention on the big ball on the television. Cara let her eyes slide over to Hotch for just a moment, seeing the haunted thoughts lying just behind his expression. She hoped maybe his demons could take a hike this year as well, but she knew better than anyone that it was never an easy process.

The crowd on t.v. started chanting as the clock slid down, taking the ball with it. Emily and Cara's voices joined them, until the screen exploded in color and sound and the four of them turned to share a toast. After hugging Emily and Dave tightly, she went back to the couch and sat down beside Hotch, smiling at him warmly. Before she could talk herself out of it, she leaned in and kissed him gently on the cheek.

"Happy New Year, Aaron," she said quietly.

He stared at her in surprise for a moment, but then something caught her eye, and her mouth dropped open. Hotch frowned, turning to look behind him.

Emily and Dave were still standing, though their champagne glasses were forgotten on the table behind them. They kissed slowly and softly, as though both were caught off-guard by the events, but unable to pull away. Cara leaned back and smiled at them for a moment before turning to Hotch.

"You're not going to be Mr. Mean Boss and rain on their parade, are you?"

Still watching them, Hotch thought about his answer. "I should," he said slowly.

"But?"

His eyes were pained as they turned back to her own. "Who am I to ruin someone else's happiness?" He shook his head. "I trust those two - if it becomes an issue, I'll deal with it then."

She couldn't help it - she leaned in and kissed his cheek again. "You're a good man, Aaron Hotchner."

"I'm getting soft in my old age," he grumbled.

Cara smirked. "Good."

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"Something smells incredibly good down here," Hotch said as he made his way down the stairs.

Jack grinned from his step stool near the stove. "Grilled cheese and soup, Daddy!"

"Is there enough for me?"

"Of course, silly!"

Cara chuckled, shaking her head. "Tomato or clam chowder?"

His phone went off and he sighed. "Tomato, please. Hotchner."

It was J.J. "We've got a case."

There something in her voice, and he frowned, signaling for Cara to wait. "Is everything okay?"

She hesitated, and that told him more than any words could. "It's a bad one, Hotch."

He nodded. "I'll be there in twenty minutes."

As he hung up, Cara gave him a sympathetic look. "There's a wind chill of negative ten."

"Don't remind me."

"More bad guys, Daddy?" Jack asked, looking up at his father with sad eyes.

Hotch nodded, squatting down so that he was eye level with his son. "Yeah. Sorry, buddy."

"Can we make grilled cheese again when you get back?"

"Of course we can." He reached out and hugged him tightly, kissing the top of his head. "I'll be back as soon as I can, okay?"

He went over to the closet, bundling up with everything he could find. There was a suit in his go bag - it could wait until he was at the office. Bending down to pick it up, he was surprised to find a hot travel cup pressed into his hands.

"You can have the soup to go," Cara said. "Be safe."

Hotch nodded, giving her a small smile. "I'll call when I can."

They watched him walk out into the snow, almost disappearing before he'd even reached the car.

"We'll pray for Daddy tonight, right?" Jack asked.

Cara nodded, ruffling his hair as she turned her attention back to the stove. "Absolutely."


	23. world tilting madly

**A/N: I am SO sorry for the long wait, guys! My muse left me without the ability to string a coherent sentence together, nevermind an entire chapter. But we should be good to go again :)**

Hotch leaned forward, pressing his palms against the cold sink. "Widowers," he whispered.

Dave watched him closely. "Are you going to be able to do this?"

He closed his eyes. When JJ had told him it was a hard case, he had expected children. What he hadn't expected was a killer who went after the families of widowers, forcing the men to relive all of that pain.

To be honest, he wasn't sure he could handle that.

He had already lost Haley, and he had only barely survived it. Images of Jack and Jessica came unbidden, and he grimaced. Losing either of them would kill him.

Then he remembered Cara.

She was a steadying constant in his son's life – and his own, if he was being honest. She had become a friend for Jessica when the older woman felt lost and alone. She had saved them when they could have easily collapsed – just by being there.

His fists clenched. And he wanted to protect her. From the UNSUB who had taken her a few months ago, from the demons she wouldn't share with him, from this new terror that she didn't even know about.

And he could only do that by catching the son of a bitch.

"I have to," he said quietly, opening his eyes.

Dave nodded. "I know. You just needed to realize it."

Running a hand over his face, Hotch stood up straight, pushing everything not related to the case to the lockbox deep in his head. "Let's go."

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There was too much blood. Hotch could remember some gruesome murder scenes in vivid detail, but this was by far one of the worst. There was a rage and a hatred there that choked him, blanketing in the room painful silence.

"What the hell happened here?" Rossi whispered, his eyes wide and unbelieving.

Hotch stared down at an overturned chair as the lead detective explained.

"Bastard made the husband watch. Looks like he went into the kids' rooms first, subdued 'em. Once he had everybody tied up, he dragged 'em down to the living room. Then he slaughtered 'em." He paused, staring down at his shoes for a moment. "M.E. counted nineteen stab wounds on the little girl."

"How did the husband get free?" Morgan asked.

"Before he left, guy kicked the chair over. Gave him just enough leverage to get up."

"That shows a decided lack of fear," Rossi commented. "How's he holding up?"

The detective shrugged. "He's like a zombie. No emotions, no tears…"

"You wouldn't have anything left if you had just watched your world slaughtered in front of your eyes," Hotch said quietly.

He stared around the room, for the first time realizing that what had happened to Haley was not the worst case scenario. He hadn't been forced to watch his son butchered, and Jack hadn't had to watch his mother die. To kill an entire family and leave one survivor was just…evil. Hotch felt his throat start to close and his vision begin to narrow before a hand on his elbow brought him back.

"We should go talk to him," JJ said quietly.

Taking a deep breath, he nodded. "Right."

She lowered her voice. "Do you want to step out? Let Rossi handle this?"

Compared to that, the crime scene was almost easier to deal with. He could pull away objectively from the blood and evidence, but to be faced with the man he could have been if Foyet had gone this route…

"I should," he murmured.

She squeezed his elbow. "Whatever you choose, Hotch, we're behind you."

His fists were clenched so hard his hands were shaking. Making eye contact with her for just a moment and nodded.

He stepped out of the room.

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"Daddy didn't call," Jack said as Cara tucked him in.

She wasn't surprised that he brought it up – Hotch didn't realize how much his son worried about him when he was gone. Giving him a gentle smile, she sat down on the edge of his bed.

"You know that happens sometimes when he's on a case." She ran her fingers through his short hair. "You really miss him, don't you?"

Jack nodded. "Can we pray?"

"Of course."

He dutifully folded his hands and closed his eyes, and Cara followed suit. Even as she followed suit, though, she opened her eyes now and then to glance at him. His whole heart was in every prayer they said for his father, and she was convinced that they carried Hotch through safely whenever he was out on a case.

"You think he'll call tomorrow?" Jack asked when they were done.

"I know he'll try," she promised.

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Two more victims. Six more deaths. Hotch knew he shouldn't dismiss the lives lost, but he couldn't help but focus on the men left behind. None of them would survive emotionally. To have the woman you loved ripped away from you once was hell. For it to happen twice, and to have your children taken as well…

The bastard had even killed the family dog.

"How is he finding his victims?" Emily asked, cutting through his thoughts.

"I might have an answer to that, actually," Reid replied, unfolding his map across the table. "I've been looking for any similarities between the victims – hair color, occupation, medical history, hobbies…I even looked up their astrological signs, wondering if the UNSUB had –"

"Reid," Hotch snapped, unable to handle the rambling.

The young man blinked. "Right. Sorry. Anyway, I only noticed one thing. When we searched the homes, there were ice skates for every family member."

Morgan shrugged. "So? It's a common sport up here, kid."

"Exactly. Which made me look for a centralized location." He pointed to the map, his finger resting on a spot central to the crime scenes. "There's a free skating rink in the middle of Hodges Park."

"Free," Dave mused. "So no credit card receipts."

"And no surveillance," JJ added. "With the crowd, the UNSUB could hide in plain sight."

"But how does he know?" Hotch asked, hearing the frustration and desperation in his voice and hating it. "How does he know they're widowers?"

No one had an answer for that. But Hotch knew – just as the rest of the team did – that it didn't matter. It was the only lead they had, and it was worth following.

"We'll scare him off if we go in there looking like feds," JJ said quietly.

Hotch nodded. "Morgan, Prentiss…I take it the two of you know how to skate?" They nodded. "Good. We need to find you some blades, then."


	24. a slip on wet stones

Emily reached out and took Morgan's hand, steadying him slightly. "A little rusty?"

He gave her a playful smile even as he kept a watchful eye on the people around them. "It's been awhile," he admitted.

Emily laughed as he wobbled again. "I can see that."

His eyes landed on someone in the crowd, and he squeezed her hand, pulling her closer. "Creepy guy on your two."

Seemingly keeping her attention on her partner, Emily let her peripheral vision pick the guy up. He definitely didn't belong in the scene, a lack of a family or friend with him not the only indicator. His flannel shirt was buttoned unevenly, a few loose threads hanging from the bottom hem. He wasn't dirty, but there was an unkempt quality about him, his hair sticking up in the back.

And he wasn't skating – his eyes were on the couples and families moving around him, his gaze heavy.

There was quiet static in their ears. "We've got him," Hotch said quietly. "You two stay there for a little while longer, see if anyone else stands out."

"We get to freeze our asses off," Morgan muttered.

Emily glanced over at him. "Think of it as getting to ice skate instead of chasing after a suspect."

"I like chasing after suspects."

She rolled her eyes, pulling him along with her for another loop around. "I've noticed."

* * *

"Nothing," Morgan hissed as they headed toward their car. "Two hours out there, and we got nothing."

Emily shared his frustration, but she couldn't voice it. Reid's skating rink idea had been the only decent lead, and they still weren't any closer to catching the killer. Her chest constricted as she watched two families standing together at their cars, the dads chatting as they loaded the trunks.

More people were going to die if they couldn't figure this out.

"Let's head back to the station," she said quietly. "Maybe the guy the rest of the team followed is the UNSUB."

Morgan looked over at her, a sympathetic expression on his face. "We both know he's not, Em. He was creepy, yeah. And they had to follow the lead. But he's not our guy."

She sighed as they got into the car. "I know."

The streets were quiet, and Emily stared out at the houses as they drove past. Lights were on in most of them as families sat down to a late dinner or got settled in front of the tv, and she found herself missing her own apartment. Though if she were honest with herself, she missed Dave's place just as much. Dating a coworker was difficult, but they were finding a way to make it work, and it made her miss their time at home that much more.

"How do you think Hotch is holding up?" Morgan asked suddenly, his voice hushed.

She had asked herself that question more than once since the case had come to them. "I imagine worse than he seems."

He nodded. "Yeah, that's what I thought. Has he talked to Jack yet? Or Cara?"

"I don't think so."

"Keeping them at arm's length, you think?"

"Probably protecting himself from a breakdown, and them from his demons."

"And we all know how well that works."

Emily shrugged. "He's gonna have to learn the hard way, then. Jack's not gonna break because he sees his dad grieving, and Cara's not gonna run because a case hammers him. He has a support system. And if he doesn't let them pull him back from the edge…" She shook her head.

"Then he's gonna drag them down with him," Morgan finished. "Dammit."

"Let's find the UNSUB first. Then we'll deal with Hotch." She frowned, something out the window catching her eye. "Morgan, circle the block."

He frowned, but did as she asked. "What's up?"

"Did we come this way on our way to the rink?"

"No. I took a coupla wrong turns when we first pulled out. We're almost back to the main drag. Why?"

"I recognized the two cars in that driveway. They were getting ready to leave when we did. Two different families."

Morgan shrugged. "So? Probably friends visiting."

Emily turned to look at him. "All of the lights were off in the house."

He checked his watch. "Little early for everyone to be in bed."

"What if we missed something in the profile?" she pressed. "We know he's an alpha male. Confident. Strong. What if he's a family man?"

"A widower who got a second chance with a new family?" Morgan asked. "Maybe he hates himself and takes it out on guys like him.

"We could check," Emily suggested. "The murders have been in the news…easy to explain our presence as a precautionary check."

Morgan was already heading back toward the house.

* * *

Hotch stared through the glass at their suspect, arms crossed over his chest. He knew this wasn't their guy. There wasn't enough rage in him, or the confidence to tie up an entire family and slaughter them. They were looking for an alpha male, someone who wanted to make people hurt in an extreme way. The man sitting at the table was neither of those things – he was broken and lost, left bitter by a world that had left him behind.

He felt the step behind him, and he knew that Dave was there.

"Do we have an I.D. yet?" he asked, his gaze still locked on the suspect.

"Marcus Huntington. War vet. Homeless."

"Alibi?"

"At a soup kitchen at the time of the first murder – volunteers there know him well. Said he helps out when he can with the physical stuff around the shelter."

Hotch sighed, feeling his strength ebb. "It's not him."

"No, it's not." He glanced over at his friend. "We'll get him, Hotch."

"Before or after he kills another family?"

Dave opened his mouth, unsure of how to respond. But then Hotch's phone was ringing, and any answer flew out of his head.

"We're on our way," he said tersely, snapping the phone shut once again. "Prentiss and Morgan found him."

Dave's eyes narrowed. "Where?"

"Killing another family."

* * *

It was over before they got there. Hotch wanted to yell at Morgan for going in without backup, but there was a family of four still able to cling to one another because the agent hadn't hesitated. Clenching his fists, he turned to watch the murderer taken out of the house, hands restrained behind his back. Cuts and bruises on his face told him that he had put up a fight, but Hotch found himself wishing the man had gone through more pain.

A small hiss behind him interrupted his bleak thoughts, and he turned to see Emily getting treated by a medic. He moved closer, taking in the gash over her left eye, a bruise already forming. Dave stood there with his arms crossed, trying to appear stern despite the worry in his eyes.

"You should have waited," he growled.

"The UNSUB wasn't going to," she shot back, her voice ice. "That family would be dead now if we hadn't come in."

The tension in Dave's shoulders eased a fraction of an inch as the medic finished his job and moved away. "I know," he said quietly. He opened his mouth to say more, but then shook his head, knowing that this wasn't the time or the place.

She appreciated his restraint, and she gave him a small smile, gentling her tone. "I'm okay."

He nodded. "You did good."

Hotch's jaw clenched. "The two of you were lucky," he said shortly.

Morgan came over, a bandage on his right arm. "Need a little luck with a case like this. You can't stand there and tell me we did wrong, Hotch."

Hotch's eyes went back to the family. "No, I can't," he admitted.

He walked out of the house without another word. His friends watched him go, each one wearing a worried expression.

"We caught the guy," Morgan finally said. "He can't be upset about that."

"He's not," Rossi countered. "But the tension has been building the entire case. It hit too close to home for him. And then he didn't have a chance for relief. Usually there's some satisfaction in the chase, breaking in the door, holding the UNSUB at gunpoint. It gives the anger a healthy outlet."

"And instead, he's just stuck with it all inside," Emily finished.

"So basically he's gonna carry it around until he blows?" Morgan asked.

Dave sighed. "Let's hope Cara has bulletproof skin. He's going to be a difficult man to deal with for awhile."

* * *

It was late when he finally made his way home. Cara glanced at the clock as she got up from the couch, stretching her tight muscles. He hadn't called once during the case, but JJ had gotten a hold of her, giving her a heads up that the case had been one of the worst they'd ever had. Apparently Hotch wasn't speaking to anyone at this point, and his team was worried about him.

So was she.

"Hey," she said quietly as he pulled off his jacket and hung it in the closet.

He didn't even look at her. "You're up late."

She shrugged. "You came in late."

"It's the job."

He was short, and his voice jagged. Cara wondered if maybe she should just let him go for the night, let him try to work through whatever was weighing on him. But he'd been holding this in for days already, and she knew what that could do to a person.

He moved into the kitchen, and she followed.

"Jack missed you. Kept asking why you didn't call."

"I was busy with the case."

Cara sighed – she'd never seen him this defensive before. "And I understand that, Hotch. So does he. But he just likes to hear your voice, to know that you're okay. He knows your job is important, but he also knows that it's dangerous. He prays for you every night. You have no idea how much that little boy worries about you –"

He slammed his glass back down onto the counter. "Dammit, Haley! I –"

He froze, his eyes widening as he realized what he said. Cara stopped as well, staring at him, knowing that the case had to have been even worse than JJ let on. Hotch had never once made that slip before.

"Hotch," she whispered

He didn't even say anything. Keeping his eyes away from hers, he stalked out of the kitchen and up the stairs, leaving her to stare after him.


	25. bleeding with no one to see

_The car was filling with water this time. She frantically reached for the door handle, but there was only flat surface, with nothing for her to grab onto. The space seemed to close in all around her, and her chest constricted, cutting off her air and making her head swim._

_She turned to look at her mother, but she wasn't there. Instead, Hotch was slumped over the steering wheel, Jack in his lap. Both were unconscious, blood seeping from a cut on Hotch's forehead._

_Her heart dropped into the pit of her stomach._

_Adrenaline rushing through her, she clawed at her seatbelt, nails breaking as she grappled with the button. The water was rising faster now, the cold seeping through her clothes, inching closer and closer to Jack's face._

_The window burst._

Cara sat up with a start, a shaky hand pushing the hair out of her face. Her fingers came back sweaty, and she closed her eyes as she tried to regain control of her breathing. The panic had been so real, like a strong hand tightening around her throat…

She shook her head and tried to push the thoughts away, not wanting to let the panic have control again. Opening her eyes, she looked around the living room. Her sleeping had gotten so bad lately that she was passing out in the middle of the day on the couch.

"Not a good sign," she muttered.

She frowned as her surroundings began to register, and she realized that Jack wasn't in the room. The house was too quiet, and the fear began pooling in the pit of her stomach again as she pushed herself to her feet and headed upstairs. The panic edged in around her, trying once again to find a foothold, like a leech looking for a fresh victim.

But it couldn't gain purchase. She found Jack sitting on the floor in his room, quietly playing with his trucks. For a minute, Cara just leaned against the doorframe and watched him, letting the last shadows from the nightmare fade away into the darker recesses of her mind.

"Hey, buddy," she said warmly.

He didn't look up. "Hey."

Cara frowned, stepping into the room. "You okay?"

Jack just shrugged, not answering her.

"You wanna come downstairs?"

He shook his head and she sighed quietly.

"You wanna talk about it?"

Jack looked up, and she almost stepped back from the anger she saw there. "I wanna be 'lone!"

He had never yelled at her before - seemed she wasn't the only one having a hard time lately. Putting a gentle smile on her face, she walked over and ruffled his hair.

"That's okay, sweetheart. You come down when you're ready, and we'll make dinner, okay?"

He shot to his feet, his eyes full of tears. "I don't want dinner!" he yelled, his voice breaking. "I want my mommy!"

Her heart stuck in his throat. "Jack –"

"You're not her! I hate you! Leave me 'lone!"

He turned and ran for his bed, flopping down onto the mattress and burying his head in the pillows. Cara fought back tears, clenching her fists as she tried to keep her emotions under control.

"I'll be downstairs," she choked out, closing the door most of the way behind her.

For a minute, she just stood in the hall, unsure of what to do. Tears were sliding down her cheeks now – she could understand why Jack would lash out, but it had been so unexpected. It must have been building without any of them realizing it.

Taking a deep breath, she went down to the kitchen on shaky legs.

* * *

She heard the car pull into the driveway and her entire body tensed. It had been over a week since Hotch had come home from that awful a case, over a week since he had slipped and called her Haley.

Over a week since he had really acknowledged her existence.

She had tried to give him his space, tried to let him work through this one on his own. But things weren't getting any better, and it was affecting the entire house. Jessica had noticed the tension as soon as she walked in a few days ago, giving Cara a sympathetic look and an encouraging hug on her way out. Hotch was obviously in pain, and he was struggling to keep it under control.

With Jack's outburst, though, Cara was beginning to lose her sympathy.

And she was getting angry.

By the time the front door opened, she had already decided that she was done keeping quiet. This wasn't about his defense mechanisms or her feelings – Jack was suffering, and she couldn't let that continue.

"We need to talk," she said as soon as he started to pass by the counter.

Hotch carried on to the hall closet, slipping off his suit jacket. "About what?"

"About the case you had last week."

His shoulders turned to stone, and he kept his focus on the act of hanging his jacket up, trying to ignore the way his hands started to shake.

"No we don't."

"Yes, actually, we do."

He still didn't turn to face her, but his voice turned hard and cold. "I am not going to discuss my work with you. I am not bringing it into the house –"

Cara slammed down the knife she was using. "Dammit, Hotch!"

The anger in her voice made him turn, and he was surprised to see the rage on her face. Cara had never been anything but calm and caring, but something had managed to push her to the breaking point. He already knew it had been him – he had driven away Haley, and now he was doing it again.

He was starting to think it was the only thing he did really well.

"Cara, I can't –"

She pointed at him, struggling to keep her voice down so that Jack wouldn't hear. "Do you have _any_ idea what's been going on in this house? Or are you too shut down to look around you?" She jabbed her finger up the stairs. "Jack is up there crying. He's hurt, and he's angry, and I bet he doesn't even really understand why."

His stomach knotted painfully at the fact that his son was hurting, but he shook his head. "That doesn't have anything to do with my case –"

"It has _everything_ to do with it!" She took a deep breath, running a hand through her hair. "Dammit, Hotch…I am trying to help you. I can be there for you and for Jack, but I'm not a mind reader. You have to _talk_ to me." She shook her head. "Jack is picking up _your_ bad habits. You're not teaching him how to love and laugh, like a father is supposed to. You're teaching him to shut down when things weigh on him. And if he lives his life like that, he'll be alone, and hurting, just like you." Her voice was starting to break. "I _cannot_ watch you destroy that little boy."

Her entire body shaking, Cara turned and headed for the front door. Hotch watched her go, unable to move or speak, his chest constricting as he struggled for air. The door slammed shut, jarring him painfully, and he drew in a ragged breath.

She was gone.


	26. we could drown together

**A/N: I'm hoping to still update this story during NaNo, but please have patience with me :) I took some liberties with Hotch's backstory here. Hope you enjoy!**

**

* * *

**He kept hoping she would come back. A voice in the back of his mind told him that Cara would never just walk out on Jack, that she would have to turn around.

But the door stayed shut.

Running a hand down his face, Hotch realized that there was nothing he could do about that right now. His son was his first priority, and right now, he needed his father. He headed up the stairs with heavy legs and a heavy heart, unsure of what he would find.

Jack was sitting up in bed, tears running down his face as he clutched at his Scooby Doo. When he saw his father standing in the door, he only started to cry harder, and Hotch crossed the room quickly, scooping the little boy up in his arms and sitting down on the mattress.

"Shhhh," he whispered. "It's okay."

Jack shook his head, his voice thick as cried into his father's shoulder. "She's gonna leave, Daddy!"

His breath stuck in his throat, and he wondered just how much his son had heard of their conversation. "You mean Cara?"

Jack just nodded.

"She's not leaving, Jack," he said, trying to believe the words.

The little boy sat up, his cries louder. "I was bad, Daddy! I said mean things!"

That surprised Hotch – Jack was almost always polite and warm. Cara's words struck him again, and he realized that she was right. His son was learning to bury things, and they were exploding out of him when he couldn't hold them in anymore.

"Why did you say mean things?" he asked quietly.

"I miss Mommy," he said, his voice small and trembling.

Hotch swallowed roughly and held him tighter. "I miss her, too, buddy. But just because we hurt doesn't mean we should hurt other people." He paused. "Why didn't you tell someone that you were upset?"

Jack shrugged. "I dunno."

Hotch knew the hypocrisy of what he was about to say, but that didn't make it any less true. "We have to talk about our feelings, Jack. That's the only way we can feel better. Aunt Jessie and Cara have taught you that, haven't they?"

He nodded. "Who do you talk to, Daddy?"

He sighed. "I'm not very good at talking about my feelings either."

"Why not?"

"I'm not really sure." Hotch shrugged. "Maybe I'm afraid no one wants to listen."

"Cara listens real good. She's your friend, right, Daddy?"

He knew that she was – a good friend who had called him on his destructive behavior because she cared. "Yes, she is. How about we go find her and say we're sorry?"

The little boy sniffed and wiped at his eyes. "What if she doesn't forgive us?"

Hotch helped to clear the rest of the tears from his son's cheeks. "She'll forgive you, buddy. She knows how much you miss Mommy." He didn't add that he wasn't sure if she'd forgive him – for calling her Haley, for freezing her out and filling the house with stony silence. He just had to pray that she did.

"C'mon," he said, giving Jack a small smile. "Let's get your coat on. I bet she went to your aunt Emily's."

It took them a few minutes to get downstairs and get bundled up – the snow had started up again outside, and they had to get Jack situated with his hat and gloves and boots. Hotch tried not to think about what they would do if she was not at Emily's. It made him sick to his stomach, and he couldn't let Jack see his fears.

He pulled his cell phone out and started to dial her number, hoping to catch her before she got too far. But as he hit the last digit, his eyes fell on her phone on the counter. She had left in such a rush that she hadn't grabbed it – or a jacket. Closing the phone, he picked Jack up and grabbing his keys, heading for the door.

And stopped as soon as he had it opened.

Cara sat on the front step, arms tightly wrapped around herself as snow fell softly around her. She looked up when the door opened and wiped at her eyes, sniffing loudly.

"Hey."

He just stared at her, relieved that he wasn't going to have to hunt her down. "I thought you were gone."

Her voice was shaky. "I stomped out without my keys and the door locked behind me. And I didn't wanna knock, because I was afraid you were mad at me for the things I said."

"Oh, Cara." He set Jack down and reached out for her hand. "Come on, you must be freezing."

Her fingers were cold against his, and he cursed himself once again. But then the door closed behind them, and she was on the right side of it, and he felt some of the anxiety fall away.

"I'm sorry," she said, wiping at her face again. "I shouldn't have –"

"Yes, you should have," Hotch said firmly. "Those were things I needed to hear."

She gave him a small half shrug. "The storming out part wasn't really necessary, though."

There was a small tug on her shirt, and she looked down to see Jack standing there, his jacket still on. "Cara?"

Giving him a warm smile, she crouched down in front of him and started to unzip his coat. "Yeah, sweetie?"

"I don't want you to leave."

The genuine fear in his eyes made her pause. "Why would I leave?"

"Because I said mean things."

"Oh, sweetheart." She finished pulling off his jacket and then hugged him tightly. "We don't leave people because they hurt our feelings once in awhile. You're family, and I love you."

"I'm sorry."

She hugged him tighter. "It's okay. I know you miss your Mommy." She pulled back and pushed the hair from his eyes. "But you can always talk to me about that, okay? I'm not gonna get mad, and it's not gonna hurt my feelings." She paused. "I miss my Mommy still, too."

"Where is she?"

Cara felt her own tears building, but she fought them back as best she could. "She died a long time ago."

"Did a bad man hurt her?"

She shook her head. "No. There was a really bad car accident."

Jack hugged her again, squeezing tightly. "S'okay, Cara," he said, patting her back.

She couldn't help but laugh lightly as a few tears escaped. "Thank you, sweetie." She took a deep breath, steadying herself once again. "You hungry?" He nodded. "Good! How about some spaghetti?"

"I love s'getti!"

She poked his nose. "I know you do. Why don't you hang up your stuff and I'll start cooking?"

"Okay!"

He grabbed his things and raced toward the closet, and Cara pushed herself back to her feet, chuckling at him. Turning, she found Hotch staring at her intently.

"You do well with him," he said quietly. "I owe you an apology as well…and a few explanations."

She reached out and squeezed his arm. "That might take awhile. How about we have dinner and put Jack to bed first? Then maybe we could have a drink and talk."

He nodded, forcing himself to meet her eyes. "Maybe it's time for those five questions."

Cara nodded, chest warming at the idea that he might open up to her a little more. "I think it might be."

* * *

"He's out," Hotch said, coming down the stairs in a t-shirt and sweats. "He must have been exhausted."

"He had an emotionally trying day," Cara replied. "Those are usually draining." She held out a bottle. "Beer work for you?"

He nodded and took the drink, trying to quell the vicious butterflies in his stomach. He still feared explaining things to her, worried that she wouldn't understand, or that she'd keep him at a distance for the way he had treated her in the past few weeks. But they couldn't avoid this anymore. He couldn't ask her to live like this.

They settled on the couch, for awhile just drinking their beers and enjoying the quiet. Cara stared out at the snow still falling, waiting for Hotch to make the first move. This had to be done at his pace, and he had to figure out what he was comfortable sharing.

"I want you to know that I am sorry," he finally started, his voice low and quiet. "I'm very sorry. For the way I've been acting, and…" He took a deep breath. "And for calling you Haley."

Fixing her eyes on him, Cara turned on her side, leaning her head against the back cushion of the couch. "I don't hold the name slip against you, Hotch. It happens."

"It shouldn't have."

"I don't understand why you're punishing yourself for that. She was a major part of your life. She gave you your son. She's still hardwired into parts of your brain and heart."

His eyes were distant as he stared across the room. "By the end of our marriage, my job was a major sticking point. When we argued, it always came back to that. It felt...it felt like every time it came up, she was attacking me for it - suggesting that I wasn't a good enough husband, or father." He shook his head. "I went on the defensive with you right away, because it's what I was used to."

"There's a difference, though. Between attacking you and bringing up something that needs to be talked about."

"I know."

Silence fell once again, but it wasn't as tense as it had been before. Hotch knew that the conversation from here on out wouldn't be easy, but they had already gotten through one difficult part, and she was still there.

"Do you want to tell me about the case?" she finally asked, her voice hushed.

He shook his head. "No." After a beat, he gave her a wry look. "I probably need to, though."

Cara searched his eyes. "Was it the victims or the killer that got to you?"

"Both." Hotch took a drink and forged ahead. "He was targeting widowers. He would..." He swallowed hard. "I hate bringing this home."

"It follows you home, Hotch. It always will. You're not going to scare me or give me nightmares...but you will destroy yourself and the people who love you if you try to carry this alone."

"I thought I was doing the right thing."

Cara gave him a small smirk. "Well, live and learn. The stoic not-sharing thing isn't working for you. Let's try something different."

He didn't return her small bit of humor, but he did nod, seemingly working his way through what she had said. After a few moments, he started speaking again.

"The killer didn't go after just any widowers. He chose those who had moved on, started new lives. He would hunt the entire family, eventually breaking in and tying them all up. Then he would force the husband to watch everyone die - his new wife, his children...even the family pets. And then he would just leave them there, to carry that burden that they had lost everything all over again."

His voice was beginning to break, the muscles in his face moving as he sought to control his feelings. Cara reached out and rested her hand on his arm, squeezing tightly.

"We caught him just as he was about to kill another family. It was luck. And Prentiss' good instincts. But he was so...normal. I expected there to be some outward sign that he was a man who hated himself, who was angry with other people who had moved on. But instead...he was every inch the normal suburban family man. He had lost his first wife to cancer and then remarried a few years later. They had children together, a happy home."

"He had moved on."

Hotch shook his head. "Only on the outside. He was punishing these men for doing exactly what he himself had done. Eventually, that wouldn't have been enough. Eventually...eventually he would have killed his entire family."

She squeezed his arm again. She was horrified at what that man had done, but the only one who mattered right then was the man sitting next to her. "You saved them."

"Physically," he agreed. "But with what they have to live with now...the knowledge of how he really felt inside about their life together..."

"But they survived, Hotch. Because of you and your team. And yeah...life is gonna suck for awhile. Yeah, they have a lot of crap to work through. But when it comes down to it, people are resilient. We can work our way through most anything. They have the chance to do that now. They have a chance to rebuild their lives and start over. And that chance is everything."

Like Jack, he thought. Living with the knowledge that his mother had been killed, with the memory of hearing the gunshot...Hotch knew that that was scarring. But his son had survived, and because of that, he had a chance to build a happy life. Scars could heal.

"Thank you," he said quietly.

"I know the tough cases make it harder. But calling Jack during those is probably what you need. To remind you that you're not in this alone. That you have someone to come home to."

His lips quirked upward slightly. "That might take some practice."

"We can be patient."

He nodded, reaching over and squeezing the hand that was on his arm. It had been a long time since he had felt like he wasn't alone. And now he was starting to realize that his exile had been self-imposed. He had a home and a family. He had friends. He wasn't the lonely Atlas holding the world on his shoulders.

"Think we can handle those five questions now?" he asked.

"I don't know. That's a lot of sharing in one night for you, Aaron Hotchner."

He shrugged. "Makes it easier knowing you'll have to share as well."

She grimaced. "Touche." Taking a deep breath, she nodded. "Hit me."

There were things he wanted to know, but he didn't want to hit her with a hard one right off the bat. "What was the happiest time in your life?"

She paused - that definitely wasn't the question she had been expecting. But the answer was easy, and she gave him a warm smile.

"College."

"Why?"

Her eyes narrowed. "Is that your second question?"

"I think explanations are a given here."

Cara stuck her tongue out at him, secretly pleased with how much he had relaxed. "Fine. It was my first time out and away from my family. Totally and completely free. I found an a capella singing group my freshman year, and they were great. We were a family, and we travelled, and we sang, and we were really, really good. We even went to Ireland my senior year. I just really found my footing then."

He gave her a small smile. "I didn't know you sang in a group. You never thought of going professional?"

She shook her head. "Singing is mine, and I never want that to change. Alright...my turn." She tapped her chin. "Tell me about your family."

"That doesn't sound like a question."

"No dodging, Hotch."

He gave her a playful look. "Fine. I have one brother. His name is Sean, and he's younger than I am."

"No other siblings?"

Hotch shook his head. "Just Sean."

"And what about your parents?"

"They're both dead. My father had a heart attack when he was still pretty young. He was a lawyer, and threw himself into his work."

Cara smirked. "Sounds familiar."

"Trust me, I see the irony."

"What about your mom?"

One side of his mouth twitched, and Cara thought that might have been a grimace. "She was...a difficult woman. She passed a few years ago. Cancer."

"I'm sorry."

He simply nodded. "My turn?"

"Your turn."

"Who was the first love of your life?"

She briefly closed her eyes. She knew that questions about her family would arise, but she hadn't been expecting this one. Truth be told, she hadn't even thought about this one in a long time, and it amazed her how strong the feelings still were.

She just wished they were happier ones.

"Nathan Berry," she finally said, opening her eyes again to find Hotch watching her intently. "We started going out our sophomore year of high school."

He heard layers of story underneath her voice. "But you're not together anymore."

"No. We broke up my freshman year of college. We..." She took a deep breath. "The church has always been important to me," she said, her voice quieter, slower. "I took the Bible to heart, and I wanted to save myself for marriage. Nathan agreed. Until our senior year, at least."

Hotch swallowed, and realized that his fists were clenched tightly. "What happened?"

She didn't meet his eyes. "He told me that we were gonna get married anyway. That a marriage license was just a piece of paper for the government. That what was important was what was in our hearts. He kept at me for months." She shrugged. "And eventually I gave in." She could feel the tears building, and she shook her head, fighting them back. "I hated it. I felt so dirty, because we could have waited. We should have. But once you give in once...I felt guilty every time he touched me. I couldn't look at myself in the mirror. When I finally went to college and learned to stand on my own two feet, I realized that he had taken advantage of me, manipulated me...and I had let it happen. So I ended things." She looked down at her hands, not wanting to see how he was looking at her. "I promised myself then and there that I would never compromise my beliefs again. And if that means that a guy doesn't want to be with me...then so be it."

Hotch could feel the tension in her body, and he knew that she was afraid of his reaction. Looking down, he saw her hand still resting on his arm, and for the second time that night, he reached for it, sensing that she needed something concrete to hold on to.

"You're not asking for too much," he assured her.

"Oh really?" she asked, finally looking up and giving him a rueful smile. "What guy would wait at this point in his life?"

"I would," he said firmly. "And so will the right man for you."

Her smile turned warm. "Thanks, Hotch," she said, squeezing his hand. "Can I ask you a hard one now?"

He nodded, inwardly steeling himself.

"Did you fight to keep Haley?"

He took a shaky breath in, letting go of her hand. No one had asked him that question out loud before, but it was one that had echoed in his mind ever since she had left.

"No. I didn't know how to," he admitted. "And I was afraid that she would leave no matter what I did."

Cara nodded, not pushing. The answer explained a lot about the man sitting next to her, and she saw relief in his eyes when she stayed quiet.

"Why did you really come back on Christmas day?" he finally asked.

After everything else she had shared with him, Cara thought that maybe this was getting easier. "My dad has been a raging alcoholic since I was a kid. Emphasis on the raging." he shook her head. "I went home, and everything just fell back into that old routine. He would yell, I would keep my voice calm and try to steer the conversation to safer waters. He would insult me, I would act like they just bounced off of me. He would pass out and I would clean up his messes. I just didn't want to do it anymore. And I had somewhere else I could be. Somewhere where I would at least get a hug and a smile in return."

Hotch searched her face. "He hurt you. Physically."

She took a breath, letting it out slowly. "He hasn't hit me since the end of high school. But he did grab me, bruising me. And I just couldn't stay."

Anger built up inside of him, but he pushed it away. This wasn't the time to let emotion run over - it was just a quiet sharing between two people that had seen more damage than most.

Cara looked up at him, a smile on her face. "Do you ever just bum around?"

The question hit him unawares, and he actually chuckled. "What?"

"I always see you in your suits and with your briefcase, or with your files spread out across the dining room table. But I've never seen you just have a lazy day."

"I'm not generally a lazy person."

"True. But all work and no play leads to men following in their father's unfortunate footsteps."

That struck a chord. "Touche." He paused. "Alright. Tomorrow. You, me and Jack. We'll stay in, play in the snow, watch movies...unless, of course, you have plans."

"Please. My life pretty much revolves around you Hotchner men." She yawned, eyes sliding shut. "I'm tired, Hotch."

He nodded, feeling the exhaustion flood through him. It had been a long day, not to mention a desperate few weeks. "Save our last two questions for another time?"

"Agreed."

Cara got to her feet and then extended her hands, helping him up as well. Without letting herself think about it, she slid her arms around his torso and hugged him tightly. She wanted him to know that they were okay, that nothing he had confessed had frightened her away. And when he hugged her back, she closed her eyes and breathed him in.

Pulling back, she leaned up and kissed him softly on the cheek. "Goodnight, Aaron."

She was at the foot of the stairs by the time he spoke.

"Sleep well, Cara."

Looking back over her shoulder, she smiled at him. "You too."


	27. a shaky step

**A/N: I am so sorry that I disappeared, guys! After finishing NaNo, I was completely wiped out emotionally, and then work owned me, and I could barely think when I got home, nevermind plot or write. This chapter is short, and I'm sorry for that, too, but updates will be more regular again, I promise. Hope you'll stick with me!**

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* * *

**

"I have a problem," Hotch said quietly.

Dave looked up from his lunch menu, eyebrows high. "Okay." When his friend didn't say anything in response, he sighed. "You're not gonna make me play twenty questions, are you?"

Hotch sighed as well, unfolding his napkin and placing it in his lap. "I'm not sure how to put it into words."

"Can you at least give me a category for said problem?"

"It's..." He took a deep breath, not meeting his friend's eyes. "It's about Cara."

Dave frowned. "Things aren't going well?"

"Just the opposite, actually."

"Aaron, you'll have to help me out here. I don't understand."

One of his hands clenched, and it was obvious that this was difficult for him to get out. "I think...I might be developing feelings. For her."

Dave stared at him for a long time, the silence stretching on until it was on the brink of awkward. Then he leaned back in his seat and shrugged. "I still don't see the problem." When Hotch gave him a hard look, he held up his hands. "What do you want me to say, Aaron? I'm not surprised. None of us would be."

Hotch's eyes narrowed. "What do you mean?"

"You may not be able to see it, but everyone else can. You've changed since Cara's come into your life. You smile again. You relax. You're not walking around like you've constantly got the weight of the world on your shoulders. Do you realize that you used to avoid physical contact? You would almost flinch is someone touched you. But now...for the first time since I've come back to the BAU, I'm seeing a happy man."

"And you think that's because of her?"

Dave gave him a scathing look. "Can you think of some other catalyst?"

He shook his head, staring down at his plate. "No."

"I don't understand, Aaron. Why is this a problem?"

Hotch swallowed hard, wishing he had never started this conversation. "I'm a difficult man, Dave."

His friend snorted. "And she can be one feisty woman. What's your point?" When Hotch didn't answer, Dave sighed. "Which is it?" he asked quietly. "Do you think she's too good for you? Or that she might leave like Haley? Or worse...that something will happen to her, too?"

The reply was quiet and pained. "All of them."

"She cares about you, though. You can see that, can't you? She can handle the job. She can handle your demons. She isn't going anywhere."

"She hasn't gone anywhere yet."

Dave let out a sad breath, his shoulders sagging. "It's that thinking that keeps you trapped. Until you can see what you have right in front of you, and enjoy it without the fear that some day it might go away, I don't think you'll ever be able to move forward." Clearing his throat, he signaled to the waiter. "On the upside, though, you don't have to make any decisions today."

"I don't?"

"No. I certainly wouldn't expect you to go home and declare your love for her. That would be a little ridiculous."

Hotch picked up his glass of water. "No one said anything about love."

"Right. You keep telling yourself that."

Hotch opened his mouth to reply, but the waiter had already reached their table, and Dave had started ordering. Knowing that it was childish, he glared at him anyway, wondering why he had mentioned anything in the first place.

* * *

Cara hummed quietly as she seasoned the meat for dinner, her hips bopping to the beat in her head. Her main attention was on the task in front of her, but she was well aware of Hotch standing somewhere to her left, and Jack over on the couch, leaning over the back and staring out the window. The weatherman had predicted a late-season snow, but the temperature had never dropped enough, and now they were left with a cold rain, taking away the last vestiges of white. Spring was making itself heard once again, even if it felt like winter still had things under control.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a hand making its way toward the plate of cookies she had just put out, and she reacted instantly, smacking it away.

"Hands off, Hotchner."

Shaking his hand in mock pain, Hotch narrowed his eyes. "You're a hard woman."

Cara laughed at that, tucking a stray hair behind her ear. "A practical one. How can I teach your son that dessert is for after dinner, if I can't get his father to behave?"

"I think you're forgetting whose nanny you are."

"On the contrary. I am well aware that my job is to take care of both of you."

He chuckled slightly at that, leaning back against the counter. "You do your job very well."

She heard a slight change in his voice, something deeper underneath his words. She knew better than to bring it to light, though, so she just smiled at him. "Hey, Aaron?"

The use of his first name got him to turn his head. "Yeah?"

"Most days it doesn't feel like a job."

He gave her a smile - warm, genuine - and she felt her insides do a little somersault. Clearing her throat, she tried to think of something else to say, hoping that she hadn't started to blush.

"Cara?"

She turned her head at the sound of Jack's voice, grateful for the distraction. "Yeah?"

He didn't turn to look at her, his cheeks squashed between his hands as he continued to stare out the window. "When's the sun gonna come back and do its job?"

Cara laughed, placing the rack of meat in the oven and wiping her hands on a towel. "Soon, buddy. Spring is on its way."

"And it'll be warm again?"

"Mmm-hmmm. And we'll have picnics, and go to the park..."

His eyes lit up and he turned around. "And the zoo?"

"The zoo, too."

Jack ran across the room, grabbing his father's hand. "And you'll come too, Daddy?"

Bending down, Hotch scooped his son up into his arms. "Whenever I'm not at work." He paused. "As long as I'm invited, of course."

Cara rolled her eyes and smacked his arm. "Of course you're invited."

"Yeah, Daddy...'course you're invited!"

Hotch kissed him on the cheek and set him back down. "That's good to know. Now why don't you go wash your hands before supper?"

"Okay!"

He dashed up the stairs, and Hotch and Cara laughed as they watched him go. As she turned back to her cooking, Hotch found himself watching her, a warm feeling growing in the pit of his stomach. It had been a painfully long time since he'd gone through this, and he felt completely out of his depth.

"It amazes me how alike the two of you are."

Cara glanced at him over her shoulder. "Me and Jack? We are totally kindred spirits."

"I've noticed. I don't know where he'd be without you. Either of us, actually."

"Well," she said, mashing the potatoes. "Thankfully, we don't need to know the answer to that."

He couldn't help it. A small voice in the back of his head whispered that he hoped he'd never have to find out what it was like without her again. The rest of his brain wasn't ready for that thought, though, and it shoved it far back in a closet and shut the door. Forcing a small smile onto his face, he reached up and opened the cabinets nearest him.

"I'll set the table."


	28. someone else

Hotch frowned as he pulled into Jessica's driveway. Cara's text that he could pick up Jack at his aunt's wasn't very surprising, but he had expected her car to be there as well. Jessica and Cara would often get together for dinner and a movie with his son, the three of them snuggled up on the couch together when he walked in.

This time, though, as he made his way through the front door, he was greeted by Jessica and Jack at the dining room table. Coloring books and crayons littered the surface, and they both smiled when they saw him.

"Daddy!"

Jack catapulted himself into his father's arms, and Hotch lifted him off the ground, hugging him tightly. "Hey there. You having a good time with Aunt Jessie?"

"Uh-huh. We're colorin'!" He reached out and played with Hotch's tie. "We gonna have pizza tonight?"

He pretended to think about it for a minute. "Sure. If that's what you want."

"Yay!"

Hotch set him down. "Go get your stuff, okay?" Jack ran up the stairs without any hesitation, and Hotch turned to Jessica. "Where's Cara?"

She frowned. "She didn't tell you?"

"Tell me what?"

Standing up, Jessica started picking up the crayons and putting them back in the box. "She had a date tonight."

That stopped him cold. He had only just started dealing with his growing feelings for Cara, but the idea of her out with someone else…Swallowing hard, he kept his expression as blank as he could. If he wasn't able to tell her how he felt, he couldn't begrudge her the right to have a social life. He didn't even know if she felt the same or if he was being a fool about the whole thing.

None of that logic stopped it from hurting, though.

"Oh." He nodded, flexing his hands at his sides. "Good. She deserves that."

Jessica stilled her hands and turned around to look at him. "Really?"

"Of course. She works hard, spends all her time with Jack…she deserves a break. A social life."

She crossed her arms and leaned back against the table. "Come on, Aaron. I know you better than that."

He frowned, his neck suddenly burning beneath his collar. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"You forget that I knew you in high school. I know what you look like when you're falling in love."

For a minute, all he could do was stare at her. When had people learned to read him so well? He was so used to being in control, to being able to anticipate and understand the people around him. He wasn't sure how to deal with them knowing him – had he always been this transparent?

"I don't –"

Her expression gentled, and she stepped forward, resting a hand on his arm. "I know you don't think so, Aaron, but you do deserve to be happy. These past nine months have been difficult on all of us. Cara hasn't magically made it all better, but she has made it easier. Jack adores her. She's been there for me when I so desperately needed a friend. And she's brought you back from the edge more than once. She's good for you. For all of us. There's no shame in falling for her."

Hotch cleared his throat, wishing Jack would come back downstairs so that they could leave and he could get out of this conversation. "She's on a date, Jessica."

"True. But why would you wait around for a man that doesn't seem interested in you?"

His frown deepened, and he opened his mouth to ask her what she meant by that, but Jack was bounding back down the stairs.

"Ready, Daddy!"

Forcing a smile onto his face, he ruffled his son's hair. "Then we better go and get your pizza." He nodded at Jessica, not really meeting her questioning eyes. "Thank you."

"Think about what I said. Please."

He could only nod before leading Jack out of the house.

* * *

Cara sighed as she leaned her head back against the seat. It had seemed like a good idea at the time – it had been ages since she'd been on a date, and she needed something to take her mind off of her newfound feelings for Hotch. Not only was it inappropriate to be pining away for a man that was technically her boss, but it was ridiculous on top of it. He had only just started letting her in, and he had never given her any indication that he might have more than friendly feelings for her. She chalked it up to not having a social life and spending too much time with Hotch and Jack. It filled her brain with ideas that it had no business dwelling on.

Of course, she had forgotten just how hellish dating could be.

It hadn't been the worst date in history, but she was definitely starting to think that it was more trouble than it was worth. The guy had been nice, but dull, and he didn't seem comfortable with the fact that she lived with a family to take care of their son. Understandable, she supposed, but it was only a first date. She wasn't going to make any apologies – it wasn't like she'd be inviting any guys back to the house.

On top of it all, she had missed Jack and Hotch. Fridays were usually pizza night, and she would have much rather been with them than sitting uncomfortably in a restaurant with a near stranger. He had seemed so much cuter at the bookstore the other day. Up close and personal, though, it was easy to see that they didn't need to have another date.

Sighing again and shaking her head, she leaned forward and started the car.

* * *

He was surprised when the front door opened a little after eight. He watched as Cara came in, locking the door behind her and setting her purse down on the counter. She definitely didn't look like someone coming home from a great night out, and though he hated the tired slump to her shoulders, he couldn't help but be happy that she was home with him.

"Hey."

She gave him a small smile. "Hey. Is Jack already in bed?"

"He just went up. I'm sure he's still awake if you wanted to say goodnight."

Cara nodded. "I would, actually."

She headed up the stairs, the disappointment from the evening slowly wearing away. This was where she was comfortable, where she was happy. She didn't want to look at that thought too closely – afraid of where it might lead – but it was enough just to know it. Maybe the right man would come along eventually, but until then, she was happy with where she was.

Jack opened his eyes as soon as she pushed the door open, and she smiled at him, pushing everything else out of her mind.

"Hey, you."

"Cara," he said warmly. "You made it for bedtime."

"Yep." She came into the room and sat down on the side of his bed. "But now it's time for little boys to be asleep."

He yawned. "Did you have fun with your friend?"

Cara shrugged. "It was okay. I missed you, though."

"We saved you pizza."

She smiled. "That was very nice of you. Close your eyes, sweetheart."

His eyelids slid down almost of their own accord. "Song?"

"Of course," she whispered.

_So I lay my head back down_

_And I lift my hands and pray_

_To be only yours_

_I pray_

_To be only yours_

_I pray _

_To be only yours_

_I know now you're my only hope_

Those few lines were enough, and Cara leaned over to place a soft kiss to his forehead before brushing the hair out of his eyes. Smoothing the blankets over him one last time, she pushed herself to her feet and left the room, turning to make sure the door didn't close all the way behind her.

"He always sleeps better when you tuck him in," a quiet voice said behind her.

Cara nearly jumped out of her skin. Hand pressed to her chest, she turned around, fixing Hotch with a glare. "Don't sneak up on people, Hotch!" she whispered.

He dipped his head, having the grace to look sheepish. "Sorry. I just…I like to listen to you sing to him."

She gave him a playful smile, leaning against the opposite wall. "Anytime you want a bedtime song, you let me know."

"I think I'm a little old for that."

"We're never too old to be comforted."

He nodded, hands in his pockets. "Jessica told me you had a date."

Cara shrugged. "Cute guy at the bookstore asked me out."

He wanted to ask her if there was going to be a second date. He wanted to ask her to have dinner with him next time. There were a million words stuck in his throat, and he was impressed that anything managed to come out.

"Was it…did you have a good time?"

She shrugged again. "It was a bust."

"I'm sorry."

Cara rolled her eyes. "It's a sign I shouldn't be out with the guy when I'd rather be home with you and Jack having pizza on the couch."

His lips twitched at that, and he let out a soft chuckle. "We left you some."

"Jack told me. Any chance you wanna have a drink with me while I eat?"

He wondered if saying no would have any power to stop him from falling for her. But as he met her eyes, he knew it was a pointless battle. Somewhere along the way, when he hadn't been looking, his heart had made its home in her hands. Once he accepted that, it felt like a tidal wave of emotions, and he swallowed back a lump.

Cara frowned slightly, concern in her eyes. "Hotch?"

Pushing off from the wall, he nodded. "That sounds good."

He followed her down the stairs.


	29. going home

She came awake with a start, her eyes snapping open to stare into the darkness. Her mind still partly trapped in whatever dream she'd been having, it took her a moment to realize that she was home in her bed, and her eyes slid over to the clock to see that it was almost four in the morning. It took her another five seconds to recognize the noise in her ears as her cell phone, and she sat up hurriedly, reaching to answer it.

"Hello?"

"Cara?"

She frowned, still foggy from sleep. "Jamie?"

"It's your dad."

It felt like a lead ball dropped into her stomach, and she went cold. She had been expecting this call for years – a car accident, a heart attack, just not waking up one morning. All the scenarios had run through her head. And as she took a deep breath, she realized that her hands were steady.

"What happened?"

Her cousin sighed, and Cara could just picture her running her hands through her hair. If she was being forced to deal with their grandmother, she was sure she looked pretty frazzled by now.

"He got pulled over for drunk driving. While the cops were putting him in the car, he had a heart attack."

Cara leaned back against her pillows slowly, letting out a long breath. "God."

"He's at St. Matthias, room 3233…"

She sat back up, hand suddenly clenching the phone. "He's alive?"

There was a small pause. "Yeah. The ambulance picked him up and took him to the ER. He's stable now. I thought you'd want to come see him."

Her heart pounding, Cara pulled her knees up against her chest and closed her eyes. She had thought he was dead. It had surprised her how prepared she was for the event, and now that she knew he was alive, she couldn't describe how she was feeling. Running a hand over her face, she took a deep breath.

"Yeah, of course. I have to talk to my boss, see when I can come."

"He'll be here for a few days at least."

"Thanks, Jamie."

"Anytime. Let me know when you get here."

"Yeah, I will. Bye."

"Bye."

The call ended itself, but she just sat there for a minute with it pressed to her ear. She wondered what was wrong with her – she had always had issues with her father, but any good daughter would at least be trying to work out the logistics of trying to get to him. All she could think of was the sick feeling in her stomach, and the fact that she'd rather pretend this didn't happen and just stay in bed. If she didn't tell anyone, they wouldn't know, and she wouldn't have to deal with it.

But that wasn't an option, and she knew it.

Sighing, Cara threw back the blankets and slid out of bed. There would be no going back to sleep now, and Hotch would be up in an hour. She might as well get a head start on the day.

* * *

Hotch frowned when he came down the stairs, surprised to already smell breakfast cooking. Cara was an early riser, but he was still usually the first one out of bed.

Unless she wasn't sleeping.

It wasn't hard to pick up on her pattern. Whenever she was having nightmares, she would simply stop going to bed. He'd find her sitting up with a book, or sitting outside in warmer weather. He wanted to ask, wanted to make her let him in. But he knew how difficult it was for him to open up, and he hesitated at pushing her.

"Good morning," he said quietly.

He almost missed the way she flinched slightly before turning around, but when she faced him, she was all smiles.

"Morning," she said brightly. "Breakfast?"

"I'd love some." He took the plate she offered him and followed her to the table. "Is everything alright?" he asked carefully.

"Yeah, of course."

He paused in the act of pulling out his chair. "Cara."

She stopped, looking down at her plate for a long moment before speaking. "It's my dad."

Hotch sat down slowly. "What happened?"

Looking up, she shrugged. "Heart attack. He's in the hospital."

His eyes widened as he stared at her. "I'm sorry. Is he alright."

"He's alive."

Something in her tone was off, but he let it pass for the moment. "You'll be going to see him?"

Cara nodded. "Yeah. I'm sorry for the short notice –"

"Don't." He was surprised at his own actions, his hand reaching out to rest on top of hers. He didn't pull back, though. "It's where you should be. And Jack is just starting his week at Jessica's. He'll be fine."

She nodded again, staring down at her food. "Thank you."

The next words were out of his mouth before he'd thought them through, but he knew that he meant them, without reservation. "You shouldn't go alone."

Cara looked up at him sharply, confusion in her eyes. "Who am I supposed to take with me?"

He couldn't meet her eyes, worried that he had stepped over a line. "I could go with you."

Her expression softened. "Aaron…you don't have to do that."

"I want to," he said firmly. "Jack is with Jessica, and I have more vacation days at work than anyone else."

Cara gave him a rueful look. "That's what happens when you don't ever take a day off."

"Let me do this," he urged quietly. "You're always there for us, taking care of us. Let me help you this time." He gave her a small smile. "I've been told it's what friends do."

"Hotch…"

"Please."

She bit her lip and nodded. It wasn't that she was unaccustomed to having friends – she had been blessed all of her life with good friends who stuck by her. But it had felt for so long like she was banging her head against a wall with Hotch, and she had put so much of her focus into getting him to open up to her, just a little. It had never really occurred to her that it would go both ways. The fact that he cared enough about her to drop everything and come to Maine with her touched her deeply, and she found herself fighting back tears.

It also sent the butterflies going inside once again, and suddenly the room was too hot for comfort.

"Thank you," she whispered.

He leaned back into his seat, his hand sliding off of hers and leaving them both a little colder. "Just let me know when we leave."

She knew he wanted to talk more, to ask about her family and what was really going on inside of her head. But he kept his questions to himself, and they finished their breakfast quietly, the sun waking up slowly as it made its way through the windows. Cara watched the light move across the carpet as she finished her breakfast. She didn't know what to expect in Maine, but she knew she wasn't ready, no matter what it was.

* * *

She had barely spoken during the flight or the drive to the hotel. Hotch knew that she wasn't close to her family, but he had still expected her to make arrangements for staying with them. When she mentioned the hotel, though, he kept his surprise to himself - he needed to be supportive of her instead of questioning.

"You don't have to come to the hospital with me," she said, setting her bag down on one of the double beds in the room.

"Is that your way of telling me you don't want me to come?"

Cara gave him a small smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "No. I just…I know it's awkward, being the outsider. And my family is really good at being pleasant on the outside, but that doesn't mean they're fun to spend time with."

"I'd rather come with you."

"You're really not gonna let me do this alone, are you?"

Hotch sat on the edge of the other bed, resting his arms on his thighs. "If our positions were reversed, would you let me?"

"No."

"Exactly."

She watched him for a minute and then came over to sit beside him, the bed dipping slightly under her weight. "Sometimes I forget that they're here."

"Who?"

Cara waved a careless hand. "Them. My family. It's easy to forget them. To think that my family is made up of you and Jack and Dave and Emily and Jessica. Instead of going to church with a sister, I meet up with JJ. Instead of having a quiet dinner with my dad, Dave and I go out. Everything fits so well there. Days just flow into one another, and I'm happy. And then something like this happens…"

"And you're reminded that you have a past."

"It's easier to forget."

Hotch nodded. He buried his own past – and Cara and Jack made it easier to focus on the present instead of his own demons. "Sometimes we have to face it, though. You're one of the best people I know, Cara. And that's why you flew out here. You could have just called and asked how he was. But you're here, you're willing to see him…after everything that's happened between the two of you, that's impressive." He paused, clearing his throat uncomfortably. "And you're not alone this time."

This time, her smile was more genuine. "You're a good man, Aaron Hotchner. Thank you."

He wanted to take her hand or wrap an arm around her shoulder. Instead, he ran his hands over his pants and cleared his throat again. "Ready?"

Standing up, she took a deep breath. "Guess so."


	30. if this is redemption

The cardiac ward was quiet. Cara was oddly aware of Hotch walking slightly behind her, his presence comforting and unsettling all at once. She had gotten so used to taking care of him and Jack, and having the spotlight put on her own past and demons was an unpleasant twist. It was easier for her to give support rather than receive it, and she wasn't sure what to do with this shift in her relationship with Hotch. She had taken control of things at a young age, doing everything she could to keep the boat steady at home. But every time she looked at the man following her, she felt her grip slipping. Things were changing before she could get a handle on them, and it made her feel helpless.

There was no one in the room. Cara had called her cousin Jamie before leaving the hotel, and she had told her that most everyone would be at work. Her grandparents had been stopping by in the evenings while her dad was served dinner, so the afternoon was her best chance to see him alone.

She wasn't sure how much easier that made it, though.

Stopping just outside the room, she turned to Hotch. "Do you mind waiting out here?" she asked quietly. "I should probably do this part alone."

He understood, and he tried to show her that. "I'll head down to the cafeteria and get a coffee. Would you like something?"

Cara gave him a small grateful smile. "Tea would be great."

Hotch nodded, a heavy hand resting on her shoulder and squeezing. "Good luck," he whispered.

She watched him walk down the hallway until he turned a corner and disappeared. He could seem so rough around the edges, but Aaron Hotchner had a capacity to empathize that ran deeper than most people understood.

Taking a deep breath, Cara shook her head. She was stalling, and she knew it. She just needed to go in there and face him.

She knocked quietly on the door before stepping inside the room. Her father, usually a large and imposing man, looked small and frail with the mass of wires and machines around him. He was paler than she remembered from Christmas, and there were deep circles under his eyes. Despite his alcoholism, he had always hated having to rest, and she could imagine he was going crazy having to lie down in a bed all day.

"Hi, Daddy," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion.

He turned from staring out the window, his eyes focusing on her. He was quiet for a long moment, and she wondered what he had been thinking about.

"Cara? What are you doing here?"

She rolled her eyes and stepped the rest of the way in, perching herself on the edge of his bed. "You're in the hospital."

"So? You shouldn't be taking time off of work."

"My boss is a very understanding man," she replied, the truth of her words resting heavily on her heart.

Her father grunted. "No such thing."

She ignored the bait. "How are you feeling?"

"Like a prisoner," he replied automatically. "They won't release me yet."

"Are you surprised? You had a heart attack."

"I'm fine."

"Then they'll send you home soon enough." It amazed her how easy it was to slip back into their old roles. When he was drinking or yelling, their arguing was light, almost like banter. It made it easier to ignore the things lurking underneath the surface. "What has the doctor said?"

He shrugged, looking away from me. "Heart attack."

"Dad…"

"That's what he said, Cara. There was some bullshit about me not drinking anymore, but these damn doctors don't know anything."

"I'm fairly certain their degrees would state otherwise."

"I'm fine."

She reached out and took his hand, the gesture so gentle that it made him look at her in surprise. "We both know that if you don't stop, you're not gonna be fine for much longer," she said quietly.

He didn't meet her eyes. Instead, he turned his head to the side, looking out the window once again. "So tell me about this job."

Cara sighed quietly. "You already know about my job. I'm a nanny."

"You could have been a teacher."

"And I still can be, if I ever decide I want that. I'm happy, Dad."

"Wasting your time, taking care of a family that isn't yours."

She tried not to bristle at that, or to let her own doubts gain a foothold. "Would you rather I came home and took care of you?"

"What the hell would you do that for?"

Cara shrugged. She didn't want to come back here to stay. She didn't want to move back in with her father. She didn't want to leave Jack or Hotch or the life she had built for herself. She thought she might go crazy if she did, but that didn't change the fact that she had to make the offer.

"Sounds like you need someone to –"

"I don't need you," he spat out.

She looked away for a moment, the words hitting harder than she would have expected. If he wasn't going to let her take care of him, she wouldn't try to force it on him. She tried to ignore the part of her that was relieved, and she squeezed his hand again.

"I'll come see you again tomorrow –"

"No," he said firmly. "You need to go back to work."

"I told you, my boss –"

"Go back to work. It's not right, taking time off for no reason. I'm a grown man, Cara. I can take care of myself."

"Is that what you call this?"

The words were out of her mouth before she'd had time to process them, but there was a part of her that felt better for having said it. No one ever questioned her father to his face, and it was one of the reasons he was able to justify his life choices. His eyes were hard, though, as he stared back at her, and she knew that he wasn't going to make any changes.

"Don't take that tone of voice with me, young lady," he warned.

Cara didn't point out that she was in her thirties and a grown woman herself. The hospital didn't need a shouting match, and it wasn't going to do either of them any good. For the first time in her life, she accepted that she couldn't help her father. She couldn't save him, no matter how hard she tried, and she didn't deserve to be pulled down with him.

Pushing herself to her feet, she leaned over and kissed his rough cheek. "I'll call you in a few days, okay?"

He waved her off. "Fine, fine. Stop fussing."

She stopped in the doorway, turning back as she slid her purse higher onto her shoulder. "I love you, Daddy."

He was already looking out the window again. "Bye, Cara."

Nodding, fighting back the knot in her chest, she simply left the room. Her eyes didn't see the corridor, filled with tears and on the verge of overflowing. Her mouth was dry and it hurt to swallow, and she suddenly felt like she had been cut adrift, with no shore in sight.

A gentle hand on her elbow brought her back.

She looked up to see Hotch standing there, concern etched across his face. Without even thinking about it, she fell against him, face pressed against his chest as she finally cried for the man who had dominated so much of her life. He was the last link to her childhood, and he had just sent her away, and she found a hole inside she hadn't expected.

It killed Hotch to see her break like that. She had exhibited incredible strength every day since he had met her, and he admired her for it. But he knew the power parents held over their children, even when those children were grown themselves. She needed to mourn, unable to hold things in any longer.

Setting the tea he had gotten for her down on a nearby cart, he wrapped his arms around her.

* * *

He didn't ask her any questions. He wanted to, but it wasn't the time. Instead, he just led her to the parking garage as she sipped her tea quietly, her eyes faraway. She came right out of it, though, when her phone rang, and they both stopped so that she could answer it.

"Hello?" she asked, almost afraid of who was on the other end.

"Did you seriously come to town and not tell me?"

Cara relaxed, flashing Hotch a reassuring smile. "Hey, Beth."

"You didn't answer my question."

She rolled her eyes. "Extenuating circumstances, but yeah. I'm in town."

"You do realize everyone else is, too, right?"

"What?"

"Remember…Laurie wanted us all to meet up before she had the baby. You were the one too far away to get up here."

Cara closed her eyes – it had totally slipped her mind. "Oops." She sighed, opening her eyes again. "I'm here now."

There was a moment's hesitation. "I heard about your dad. Did you see him yet?"

"Yeah."

She didn't explain, and she knew Beth would understand. Thankfully, her friend moved right on. "So we're kidnapping you for dinner."

Her eyes slid over to Hotch. "I have someone with me."

"Please tell me it's that hunky man you live with."

Cara inwardly groaned. "I never used that word."

"You didn't have to. It was in your voice."

"You're inferring things from my tone now?"

She could practically hear Beth's smirk. "It's what best friends do. Anyway, of course you can bring him. How about Savala's in an hour?"

"Works for me. See you soon."

She hung up the phone to find Hotch looking at her with a strangely guarded expression. "You're meeting up with someone?"

"We are, actually. If you're up for it. Remember the singing group I told you about?"

He nodded. "From college, right?"

"Right. Well…they're in town. I forgot they were getting together."

Hotch frowned. "You weren't going to go originally, though?"

Cara shrugged. "It's a long trip. Everyone else lives a lot closer. And since they were just meeting up for a day…" She shrugged again. "But they're here, and so am I, so…"

"I don't want to intrude."

She gave him a warm smile. "You're not. I'd really like it if you came."

His smile was automatic. "Then I'd love to be there."

* * *

He expected to feel like an outsider. And though there were inside jokes and subtle glances, the other eight people at the table welcomed and included him. They told him stories of their travels and performances, hilarious anecdotes from their rehearsals. It was easy to tell that this group had a strong connection, and the way it lifted Cara's spirits warmed him.

Cara shook her head as another story ended, taking a sip of her wine. "I still can't believe you're having a baby," she said to Laurie. "And with a tenor. I thought you'd have enough sense to marry a bass."

Ryan held a hand to his chest as though injured. "This, coming from my singing soul mate!"

Warren, the large black man who grounded the group with his deep voice, noticed Hotch's frown. "Ryan and Cara were usually our leads. And let me tell you, they could sell emotion like you wouldn't believe. Heartache, love, betrayal…they could make the audience believe they had the most torrid love affair in history."

Hands resting on her stomach, Laurie rolled her eyes. "I can't tell you how many times people would come up to me, convinced that Ryan was cheating on me with Cara. Because you just can't fake that kind of emotion."

"Which is bull," Ryan interjected. He shrugged, explaining for Hotch's benefit. "Cara and I have a lot in common. We've both loved deeply and been hurt, and it's easy to feed off of that when there's music."

"You ever heard her sing?" Warren asked, nodding at Cara.

"I have," Hotch replied. "She's saved my son from nightmares more times than I count with her songs." He paused, hesitating slightly. "Myself, as well."

The admission surprised her, and she found herself unable to look away from him. The butterflies in her stomach felt like they were trying to break out, and it was making it difficult to breathe. She wasn't supposed to be feeling like this. He wasn't supposed to say things that touched her so deeply.

But she was, and he did.

"I've never heard you sing as a group, though," Hotch continued, cheeks warming as he felt Cara's eyes on him.

"We could do a song," Beth replied, not missing the nonverbal exchange between her friend and Hotch.

"Here?"

Ryan shrugged. "We've always been attention whores." He looked over at Cara. "You start something. We'll follow."

She thought about it for a minute, wondering which song to go with. There were a million to choose from – the group had done so many in their time together, and they were good about jumping in whether they had practiced the song or not. It was rare to find people who worked so well together, so in sync, but this group had almost always functioned that way.

In the end, she chose the song she'd had stuck in her head since she'd gotten the call about her father.

_If this is redemption, why do I bother at all  
There's nothing to mention, and nothing has changed  
Still I'd rather be working at something, than praying for the rain  
So I wander on, till someone else is saved_

It was Devin's voice that picked it up next, floating down the table.

_I moved to the coast, under a mountain  
Swam in the ocean, slept on my own  
At dawn I would watch the sun cut ribbons through the bay  
I'd remember all the things my mother wrote_

When everyone joined together, Hotch couldn't do anything but stare at them in amazement. The voices blended together perfectly, the words seeming to breathe with a life of their own. Time apart hadn't hurt them at all, and he felt as though he were watching them all come back to a place that had been home. Everyone in the restaurant stopped as well, watching, listening. And the nine of them just kept singing.

_That we don't eat until your father's at the table  
We don't drink until the devil's turned to dust  
Never once has any man I've met been able to love  
So if I were you, I'd have a little trust_

_Two thousand years, I've been in that water  
Two thousand years, sunk like a stone  
Desperately reaching for nets  
That the fishermen have thrown  
Trying to find, a little bit of hope_

_Me I was holding, all of my secrets soft and hid  
Pages were folded, then there was nothing at all  
So if in the future I might need myself a savior  
I'll remember what was written on that wall_

_That we don't eat until your father's at the table  
We don't drink until the devil's turned to dust  
Never once has any man I've met been able to love  
So if I were you, I'd have a little trust_

_Am I an honest man and true  
Have I been good to you at all  
Oh I'm so tired of playing these games  
We'd just be running down  
The same old lines, the same old stories of  
Breathless trains and, worn down glories  
Houses burning, worlds that turn on their own_

_So we don't eat until your father's at the table  
We don't drink until the devil's turned to dust  
Never once has any man I've met been able to love  
So if I were you my friend, I'd learn to have just a little bit of trust_

As the last harmonies faded away, the room burst into applause. The group clapped each other on the shoulders and laughed, but Hotch only had eyes for Cara. The smile on her face, the lack of tension in her shoulders – this had been what she needed. And he felt satisfied sitting there and watching her, getting to be a part of something that had meant so much to her.

"Do we get another one?" he asked.

Beth laughed. "Don't get us started. We could go all night."

The waitress smiled as she approached the table. "Trust me. No one here would mind."

The table erupted into laughter again, and it wasn't long before another song was started. Hotch just leaned back and listened, a smile on his face.


	31. time in a bottle

**A/N: I promise the timeline will start moving ahead again. But we needed to wrap things up in Maine first :) Enjoy!**

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* * *

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Songs were still ringing in his head as they walked into their hotel room. The dinner had gone late into the night, though no one seemed to mind, and they never ran out of things to sing. He had been told more stories than he could count in between glasses of wine and mingled harmonies, and his face actually ached from laughing. It had been a long time since he'd enjoyed himself so much or lost himself in an evening.

He glanced over at Cara as she came out of the bathroom, quietly humming to herself with a small smile on her face. This wasn't a new side of her, but he did feel like they had grown closer. She had shared her past with him in more ways than one, and he just felt comfortable.

"Are you sure you want to go back so soon?" he asked suddenly.

She looked up from her suitcase. "There's nothing left to do here."

Hotch shrugged. "You could spend more time with Beth."

"I could…but she's already planning a trip down to see me. And she has work tomorrow. There's no reason to stay," she repeated.

He sat down on the edge of the bed, watching her. A lot of the tension she had been carrying earlier seemed to have eased out of her, but that didn't stop him from worrying. She had felt so fragile and small in his arms at the hospital.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice gentle and quiet.

Cara took a deep breath, letting the question sink into her. Her father's words had hurt her deeply, but there was also a sense of relief that she could go back with Hotch. Her home wasn't here anymore, and that knowledge only made it harder to be there. Stilling her hands, she walked over and sat down next to him, her elbow brushing against his.

"He's dying," she finally said. "Maybe not in the next few months, or before next year, but…if he keeps this up, he'll be dead." She paused, staring down at the brown carpet under her feet. "When I got the call from my cousin, I assumed that he was already gone, and when she said that he was in the hospital…" She shook her head, wiping at her cheeks. "I can't say it," she whispered. "I can't admit it out loud."

Hotch surprised them both when he reached out and took her hand. He could remember a time when he always kept his distance, physically and emotionally. It hadn't even been that long ago. But it seemed natural to comfort her, and he couldn't stop himself from touching her.

"It's alright," he reassured her quietly. "I understand."

Letting out a long sigh, Cara rested her head on his shoulder, for once letting herself enjoy the comfort he was offering her without reservation. "Sometimes I can't believe my mom made it as long as she did with him."

"Tell me about her," he murmured.

Cara smiled sadly. "When she was in a good place, she was great. We'd make cookies, and color, and…all those things your mom is supposed to do with you. She'd even keep me home from school sometimes so that we could play hooky with a movie and some hot chocolate."

He returned her smile. "Sounds like your days with Jack."

"I promise not to let him play hooky too many times. That's a bad habit to start in kindergarten."

They hadn't yet talked about the fact that Jack would be starting school in the fall. But her comment gave him hope that she would stay, and that he would have more time with her.

"What about the bad days?" he asked, focusing them back on the topic.

Her smile faded immediately, and he almost regretted asking. "She was paranoid. About everything. She thought my dad was cheating on her, that there were people following her. She thought I was planning to run away. And it only got worse as I got older. By the time I got to high school, she wasn't having any more good days."

"Why didn't your father have her committed?"

"Because he doesn't believe in that kind of stuff. Problems shouldn't be talked about with people outside of the family. Mom was just Mom, and our job was to make sure she didn't hurt herself." Cara shook her head. "But it only got worse. She started worrying that people were after me, too. Her delusions were confusing and inconsistent, and…I just couldn't get her to stop. And even when I caught her with a razor, my dad wouldn't let me doing anything to help her."

Cara stopped suddenly, her throat tightening. Beth was the only person who knew this part of the story, and her voice dried up, as though it didn't want her to continue. But Hotch hadn't moved, and he hadn't tensed up as her story unfolded.

"I was barely paying attention to her when we got in the car that day," she continued, her voice hushed. "I was wrapped up in school and my boyfriend…she hadn't said anything for a week anyway, so I just switched on the radio and stared out the window." Familiar and painful strains of 'Time in a Bottle' played out in her head, pulling her back. "I slammed into the door when she spun the wheel. I tried to reach over, to get control of the car…" She shook her head and fell silent, tears sliding down her face.

Hotch watched her, his stomach knotting painfully. He had had his suspicions about Cara's mother for awhile, but to hear her tell the story…This woman had been through so much more than any one person should have had to, and yet she had still come through. She was whole, and loving, and had patched his family back together despite the fact that she hadn't been able to do that for her own. She gave everything she had to him and Jack, even though no one had ever done that for her.

He knew in that one moment that he was so far past in love with her that there was no turning back.

Squeezing her hand and clearing his throat, he leaned in and kissed the side of her head, unable to stop himself from breathing her in.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered.

It was too much for her, and she broke. Shoulders shaking, she let everything fall away – the pain she had been carrying, the strength she had been trying to project – and just cried. Letting go of her hand, Hotch pulled her into his arms and held her. He knew there was nothing he could say to make the pain go away, but he could ground her. She had been that steadying rock for him more times than he could count, and he would let her hold onto him as long as she needed.

He hoped she'd never let go.


	32. a piece of peace

**A/N: Just to clear up confusion, this chapter is set in May. They start out talking about Father's Day, but Mother's Day hasn't yet happened at the beginning of the chapter. Enjoy!**

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* * *

**Jack leaned over the back of the couch, head in his hands as he stared out the window. "It's raining," he said grumpily.

Cara hid a small smile, setting a plastic bin on the dining room table. "Yes, it is."

"But I wanted to go to the park today!"

"Well, we'll just have to find something else to do."

He turned around, watching her carefully. "What's that?"

"Why don't you come over here and see?"

He slid down from the couch and crossed over to her, eyes alight with curiosity. She knew how much he had wanted to go to the park today, but the weather just wasn't going to let them get there. Thankfully, she'd had a backup plan for the afternoon anyway.

"Do you know what next month is?" Cara asked.

Jack screwed up his eyes and mouth, thinking hard. "June?"

"Exactly. And do you know what holiday is in June?"

He frowned. "'Pendence Day?"

Cara chuckled. "Not quite. That one is in July. June has Father's Day."

Jack's eyes lit up. "That one's for Daddy!"

"Yes it is. And I thought we could make him a present." She reached into the bin and started pulling out pictures and construction paper. "Do you know what a scrapbook is?" The little boy shook his head. "It's a book we make and fill with pictures. I called Aunt Jessie and she brought me some pictures of you and your daddy." She ruffled his hair. "You wanna help me pick some out?"

He nodded eagerly. "Yeah!"

As they sat down and started going through the pictures, Cara was glad she always had her camera around. Even with Jessie's help, there weren't too many shots of Hotch and his son during the past couple of years. They might not have had enough for the scrapbook, but her own collection of pictures from the past several months gave them enough to choose from.

"Can we put this one in?"

She looked up to see Jack holding one of the photos, and she couldn't help but smile sadly when she realized what it was. Hotch and Haley sat on the couch in another home – Cara surmised it was the one they had when they were still married – holding their newborn son and smiling. Hotch looked so much younger than the man she knew now, and she wondered what it would have been like to know him then.

"That's my mommy."

She heard the sadness in his voice, and it echoed deeply inside of her. She had pictures of her own that spoke of happier times with her mother, and she knew what it was like to look back on them and remember things she could never get back. That pain was going to be a part of Jack's life, as well.

"It's a very nice picture," she said softly. "Which page should it go on?"

"The first one," he said firmly.

Cara leaned over and kissed the top of his head. "Good choice."

* * *

It wasn't often that Hotch got to go grocery shopping with his son. Cara had easily taken the chore on when she had moved in, and he realized with a start that he couldn't remember the last time he had had to do it. She had a doctor's appointment that morning, though, and the refrigerator was looking decidedly empty.

Jack walked beside him as they moved up and down the aisles, one hand gripping the cart as he looked around.

"Daddy?"

"Hmmm?"

"Can people have more than one mommy?"

The question made him stop in surprise, and he stared down at his son. Jack just looked up at him with curious eyes, waiting for an answer.

"Well, yes," Hotch replied, his voice breaking slightly. "Why?"

Jack shrugged. "Me and Cara made Aunt Jessie a Mommy's Day card, 'cause she does mommy stuff with me. We made you a present, too, but you can't have that 'til Daddy's Day."

He couldn't help but smile slightly at his son's seriousness. "That sounds very nice."

"Cara does mommy stuff with me, too. Lots."

"Yes she does." Hotch looked down at him, understanding where the questions were coming from now. "Would you like to do something for Cara for Mother's Day?"

Jack looked up at him. "Can we?"

He wondered if it should have hurt more than it did. And maybe it would have, if Jack was handling the approach of Mother's Day with less grace. He knew that his son was still in pain, but the therapy sessions Cara and Dave had talked him into seemed to be helping. The guilt that Hotch normally felt was still there, but he also couldn't help but be glad that Jack had other people in his life to give him the love he was missing from Haley's absence.

It gave him hope that he was going to be okay.

"Of course we can," he replied.

* * *

Sliding one eye open, Cara glanced at the clock and groaned. She had had trouble falling asleep the night before – not because of nightmares, but just an inability to get comfortable – but she needed to get up and make breakfast for Jack if they were going to make it to church on time. Taking a deep breath, she rolled herself over and pushed back the covers, freezing halfway through the action when she realized that she wasn't alone in the room.

Jack stood right next to her bed, an excited smile on his face. "You're awake!"

"I am now," she said, her voice hoarse. She let out a big yawn and sat up, pulling Jack into her lap. "Did anybody ever tell you it's a little creepy to watch other people sleep?"

"I wasn't watchin' you sleep. I was watchin' you wake up!"

Cara chuckled. "Valid point. So why are you up so early?"

"To say 'Happy Mommy's Day!'"

She stared at him for a moment in surprise. "To me?"

He nodded. "'Cause you're like my second mommy. And Aunt Jessie is my third, 'cause she doesn't live here and you do – just like a mommy." He held up something in his hand. "I made you a card!"

"You did?"

Cara could already feel tears filling her eyes as she took the card from him. It was obvious that he had had help, since there was writing on it, but it was full of colorful pictures that she knew he had drawn himself.

"Daddy helped me with the letters," he explained.

"And the pictures?" she asked with a smile.

"I made those!" Jack exclaimed proudly. "It's of us at the zoo!"

"I can see that. We always have a great time at the zoo."

Jack nodded. "The aminals are fun."

"Animals," she corrected gently. She couldn't stop staring at the card, trying to keep herself from crying in front of him. Wrapping her arms around him, she scooped the little boy up and hugged him tightly. "Thank you," she whispered.

"You're welcome. And that's not all!" He slid off the bed and tugged at her hand. "C'mon!"

Laughing, she let him pull her to her feet and lead her down the stairs. She could smell the food before she'd even made it halfway down them, and she warmed when she saw Hotch standing in front of the stove.

"She's up, Daddy!" Jack announced.

"That's good," he replied. "Because breakfast is just about ready." He nodded at Cara with a small smile. "Good morning."

"Morning. You guys didn't have to do all this."

"Jack wanted to." He paused. "We both did." Turning back to the stove, he pulled the French toast out of the pan and added it to an already-full plate. "If we want to make it to church on time, we should sit down and eat."

Cara was already pulling out a chair when his words sunk in. "We?"

He shrugged, meeting her eyes briefly. "I'd like to join you, if that's alright."

Her smile was wide and sudden. "Of course it is."

"The flowers are for you, too!" Jack interjected, taking his own seat next to her.

She looked at the vase in the middle of the table, full of bright flowers, and she realized that she had never had a happier Mother's Day. For once, the pain of her own loss didn't taint the day, and she was glad that they had things to celebrate instead of focusing on the past.

Leaning over, she kissed Jack on the cheek. "You are my favorite little boy in the whole world, you know that?"

He giggled. "Daddy too?"

Hotch was leaning over to place a plate of food in front of her, and Cara kissed his cheek as well, blushing slightly at the way his eyes widened.

"Daddy too," she assured him.

* * *

It turned out that Hotch had a trip to the zoo planned for them after church, and JJ's family joined them, as well as Jessie. Jack had a tight hold on Henry and his aunt's hands, and he led them from one place to another, excitedly telling them about the animals they were seeing. His joy was infectious, but Cara hung back slightly with Hotch, a small doubt gnawing at her.

"I'm sorry if this was awkward for you," she said quietly. "The whole Mother's Day thing. I know it can't be easy, and I'm not trying to –"

Hotch held up a hand, knowing where she was headed. "I know you're not. But the truth of the matter is that Jack needed a mother figure in his life, and you were there to fill that void. And you did it better than I ever could have imagined. I'm glad that he has someone to celebrate with today, instead of sitting around, wishing that things were different." The words sounded cold in his ears, and he suddenly worried that they weren't coming out the right away. Glancing over at her, he gave her a small smile. "I'm glad you're here, Cara."

She nudged his elbow and smiled back. "I'm glad I am, too."


	33. a step past fear

"You're here late."

Hotch looked up to see Dave standing in his doorway, leaning against the wall. His stance was casual, but his tone had been loaded, and they both knew there was something underneath it. Silently, he sighed – he didn't exactly feel like talking, but he knew that when Dave set his mind on something, he wasn't likely to let it go.

"It's not even seven," he weakly deflected.

Dave snorted, coming all the way into the room and sitting down. "These days you try to get home for dinner. Understandable when you've got such a great cook who's damn good company on top of it."

He focused on his paperwork, pen scratching against the silence of his pause. "Cara isn't home tonight."

Dave's eyebrows went up slightly. "Oh?"

"She has a date."

"Another one."

He still didn't look up. "She's a beautiful young woman, Dave. It's only natural that she has an active social life."

"She's a beautiful woman you happen to be in love with." When Hotch didn't give any reaction other than the tightening of his shoulders, Dave sighed. "Dammit, Aaron. You do realize she's probably going to keep going on dates until you ask her out, right?"

Hotch tensed again, but this time set his pen down and looked at his friend. "Let's say I take your advice, Dave. Let's say I ask her out. What if she says no? That will make the atmosphere in the house uncomfortable, to say the least. She means too much to Jack to risk her leaving because of something I do."

"She feels the same way."

"You seem to have forgotten that she's on a date. With someone else."

"Because she doesn't know how you feel! She's had a few dates these past couple of months – has anything come of any of them?"

Hotch's jaw clenched. "No."

"And why do you think that is?"

"Just because she hasn't found someone who makes her happy, doesn't mean that she won't."

Dave gave him a withering look. "She's living with the man who makes her happy." When Hotch didn't say anything, he decided to try a different track. "Let's make a deal."

Hotch looked at him suspiciously. "A deal?"

"Yes. If she comes home from this date, and it didn't go well, you start thinking about asking her out."

Hotch let out a weary sigh. "Do you have any idea how long it's been since I've tried to date?"

"Too long, that's for damn sure."

"I'm not good at this, Dave."

He shrugged. "You said something similar when she first moved in. And you two have done just fine."

Rubbing at his forehead, Hotch tried to process everything. He wasn't just afraid of talking to Cara about his feelings – he was terrified. He wouldn't be able to forgive himself if she left because of him. Jack would lose one of his closest friends, and he didn't think his son could handle that.

But if she found someone who made her happy, she'd leave eventually anyway.

"I'll think about it," he said quietly.

Dave nodded and pushed himself out of the chair. "Good. That's all I'm asking."

His friend may not have realized it, but Hotch knew he was asking much more.

* * *

It wasn't often that JJ got an evening to herself, and Cara felt guilty for imposing. But the blonde agent simply shook her head and gave her a beer, sitting down beside her on the couch.

"Trust me, the chance to have adult conversations about something other than work schedules or grisly crime scenes is hard to come by. This is a nice change of pace." She took a sip from her bottle. "I take it the date didn't go well."

Cara shrugged, leaning back against the cushions. "It was fine."

JJ grimaced. "That never bodes well for the other person."

"No, I mean…he was fine. He was nice. He was cute…and I wasn't interested in the least." She groaned. "What is wrong with me?"

"Nothing is wrong with you," her friend assured her. "You're just not into him. It happens."

Cara fell silent, nursing her beer and lost in her thoughts. If she was honest with herself, she knew why she had ended up on JJ's couch. She knew why she hadn't enjoyed any of the dates she'd been on recently. She knew exactly what was eating away at her.

Knowing it and saying it were two completely different things, though.

"I did something stupid," she finally said, her voice quiet and sad.

JJ frowned. "How stupid?"

"Falling for a man I can't have stupid."

"If this man is the one I think it is, then it's not stupid."

Cara picked her head up from the cushion and looked over at her. "It's most definitely stupid. Foolish, at the very least."

"Why?"

"Because…" She shrugged, fishing for coherent words. "Because he's Hotch."

JJ shook her head. "This isn't like you. You don't normally run from things. I honestly expected you to be the one who acknowledged your feelings for him and accepted them." She paused. "You don't honestly think the attraction is one-sided, do you?"

"I don't know what he's thinking."

"Bullshit." Cara stared at her, but JJ just plowed on before she could get a word in. "You read him better than almost anyone. You see the look on his face when he knows you're going out with another guy. You see the way he relaxes around you, the way he opens up. If you could be someone else and watch the two of you, you'd immediately see that the feelings go both ways. So why aren't you letting yourself see it?" She paused again, this time narrowing her eyes at her friend. "You don't know how to let him love you."

Cara grimaced. "That sounds like a bad line from a Lifetime movie."

JJ waved a dismissive hand. "Whatever. You're so used to loving other people, taking care of them, putting them first…you don't know what it's like for someone to want to do those things for you."

"I just don't know what to do."

She shook her head, her voice firm. "You need to man up. Since when are you afraid of things? You moved down here on a whim to take on a nanny position. You've faced down Hotch when he's completely shut himself down. You freed yourself when you were kidnapped, for God's sake! Don't tell me you're afraid of being happy!"

Cara knew she was right. She wasn't one to mope around about her feelings – either she accepted them, or she shoved them to the back of her mind and moved on. Since the latter wasn't working for her in this case, she needed to accept that she had fallen hard for Aaron Hotchner.

Rolling her eyes, she stuck her tongue out at her friend. "You're a pain in the ass, you know that?"

"I take payment in chocolate and alcohol."

Laughing and letting herself relax a little, Cara nodded. "I'll keep that in mind."

* * *

He hadn't meant to wait up for her, but he simply couldn't make himself go to bed. Dave's words kept ringing in his head, and he couldn't shake the nerves. He hadn't asked a woman out since high school, and he didn't think he knew how to put the words together and make them come out coherently.

"This is ridiculous," he muttered, going through the day's mail as he sat at the dining room table.

It was then that the front door opened, and he lifted his head to see Cara coming in. She immediately gave him a smile as she set down her purse, walking over to join him.

"Hey."

"Hey." His voice sounded strained in his own ears, but she just continued to smile at him.

"Anything good?" she asked, nodding to the pile of envelopes in front of him.

He held one up. "More information on kindergarten."

Cara sat down. "I can't believe he's starting school in a couple of months."

"Trust me, I know. I'm not entirely sure I'm ready for him to be old enough for that." He took a deep breath. "He got the morning session, though. So the two of you will still have afternoons together." Her smile brightened, and though he enjoyed the sight, he didn't understand why she was so happy. "What?"

Cara shrugged. "I wasn't sure you'd still need me once he started going to school."

"I'm not sure we'll ever stop needing you." The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them, and he swallowed hard, wondering how to backtrack. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have –"

She couldn't help but smile again at how flustered he was. JJ had been right about her being able to read him, and now she was able to see things a little more clearly. Hope pooled in the bottom of her stomach as she reached out and rested her hand on his bare forearm.

"I'm here for as long as you'll have me, Hotch."

"That's a dangerous offer to make," he warned.

Propping her chin up with her free hand, she shrugged. "And yet I'm not taking it back."

He thought that he should say something, but the words all tangled up in his throat, with none of them making it out. Feeling like his heart was going to beat right out of his chest, he slowly lifted his left hand instead, setting it down on hers gently. Her thumb curled around his thumb, and he found himself transfixed by the contact.

"I should go to bed," she whispered. She reached up and ran a finger across his brow. "You look tired."

"I'm okay."

She studied him carefully. "Promise?"

Hotch nodded. "Promise."

Standing up, Cara swallowed back the rest of her fears and leaned forward, pressing a kiss to his forehead. She heard his ragged exhale, and felt the butterflies in her stomach erupt.

"Goodnight, Aaron."

"Goodnight."

He sat at the table for a long time, staring at his arm, remembering how her hand had felt as it rested there, and how her lips had felt on his skin. He knew he was so far gone that there was no hope of coming back.

It wasn't until he pushed himself to his feet that he realized he had forgotten to ask her about her date.


	34. a step towards the future

**A/N: And...this is it. At long last, this story has come to an end. I know most of what happens with these two in their futures, but I can't say they'll ever end up on paper. This is where this part of their story ends. Thank you to everyone who read, reviewed, and encouraged. You guys are awesome. And I really hope you like this**

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* * *

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"Daddy?"

Hotch glanced over at his son as they sat on the swings, enjoying their ice cream cones. The little boy looked comical with his huge scoop of chocolate ice cream, the milky treat covering his face and inching up towards his nose. "Yeah?"

"Do you love Cara?"

His eyes widened as he stared down at Jack. The question had blindsided him, but it also mirrored his thoughts and the conversations he'd been having with Rossi lately. Had he really been so obvious that his five-year-old could figure it out?

"Why do you ask?"

Jack shrugged. "I heard Unca Dave tell Aunt Emmy that you do." He looked up at his father with big eyes. "Do you?"

It was one thing to admit his feelings to himself, or to Dave…it was another thing entirely to admit it to Jack. But he had already promised himself that it was time to stop running from it, and he wasn't going to lie to him.

"Yes," he answered slowly. "I do."

"The way Unca Dave loves Aunt Emmy?"

"Yes." Hotch paused. "Is that okay with you?"

Jack took his time to think about it, and Hotch wished, not for the first time, that he could see into his son's head. "Does that mean she would stay with us forever?"

"Well, that would depend."

"On what?"

"On if she loves me back."

"Oh." Jack paused. "I think she does," he said finally, his voice firm.

Hotch's lips quirked up into a half-smile. "Oh you do, huh?"

The little boy nodded, and then his expression grew serious. "I want her to stay with us, Daddy."

He seemed so small and vulnerable right then – which wasn't too far from the reality of the situation – and Hotch felt his throat lock up. "I do too."

They sat like that for a little while longer, Jack struggling to conquer his ice cream, while Hotch stared out over the park. He was starting to regret his decision to talk with Cara. The conversation needed to be had, of course, but now he was wishing that maybe he had just taken a leap of faith and made a move. This felt like pulling a band-aid off slowly, and it gave him far too much time to over think things.

"You have no idea how tempting it is to push you."

Both of the Hotchner men turned around at the sound of her voice, smiling at the sight of Cara standing behind them.

"That would probably be very messy," Hotch commented.

Hands on her hips, Cara smirked at him. "I wasn't talking about Jack."

Jessica came up to stand beside her, her eyes widening. "Oh my. That's quite the ice cream scoop."

Jack grinned at her. "It's chocolate!"

"I can see that. Since it's all over your face." She gave a mock glare to Hotch. "Somehow you never manage to stay clean when you're with Daddy."

"I maintain he gets much messier baking with Cara."

"Hey!"

Hotch shrugged. "Truth hurts. Did the two of you have fun shopping?"

"We always have fun shopping," Jessica replied. "Especially when JJ and Emily and Penelope join us."

"That sounds dangerous."

"Only for the people we talk about," Cara smirked. "Which means you probably shouldn't ask any more questions about what we did."

"Point taken." He glanced up at Jessica, catching her eye and giving her a small nod. Then he looked over at Jack, ruffling his hair. "How about you take Aunt Jessie to get a cone of her own?"

"What about Cara?" he asked.

"I'll take her to get one after."

"Okay!" The little boy wiggled down from the swing and ran over to catch his aunt's hand. "C'mon, Aunt Jessie!"

She let herself be pulled away, rolling her eyes and laughing at her nephew. Once they were gone, Cara turned back to him.

"Do we have something else to do?"

He swallowed down his nerves and stood up. "I was hoping you'd take a walk with me."

Her smile was immediate. "Of course."

They turned and started through the park, their steps slow and with no real destination in mind. Their shoulders bumped as they walked, the contact soft and reassuring. When their knuckles brushed, Hotch let their fingers tangle together until they were holding hands. He risked a glance over, resolve strengthening when he saw Cara smile shyly at him.

She could feel her cheeks heating up, but Cara didn't really care at the moment. She had an idea where this was going, and thanks to her conversation with JJ, she wasn't afraid anymore. She and Hotch fit together. They made sense. And she was growing increasingly fond of the warm feeling that spread through her whenever he smiled at her or touched her.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly. "I'm not very good at this."

She squeezed his hand. "You're doing much better than you think." When she saw him continue to struggle, the words sticking in his throat, Cara stopped, squeezing his hand and turning to face him. "Would it be easier if I said it first?"

There was a mixture of fear and relief in his eyes. "You know what I'm going to say?"

"I think I do." She squeezed his hand again. "I hope I do," she added quietly.

He took it as a good sign that she was still smiling, still standing there holding his hand. Being on the same page would certainly make this easier, and for the first time, he really let himself hold onto the hope that she felt the same way he did.

"I think I need to say this," he finally said. "Just…give me a chance to get through it all, okay?"

Cara nodded. "Okay."

He turned and started walking again, pulling her along gently. It had been a long time since he had felt so normal – just walking through the park with the woman he loved by his side. For so long, his days had been an endless cycle of blood and guilt, while he tried to balance his work with his life with Jack. The sun warm on his face, and her hand firmly in his, he realized that that had all changed.

He knew what he wanted to say. He wanted to tell her that she was a blessing in their lives, that she had saved them from the darkness that had been growing around them. He wanted to tell her that he loved seeing her every morning, standing in the kitchen, cooking breakfast. He wanted to tell her that he liked to stand in the hall while she sang to Jack at night, his chest aching with how right it all felt. He wanted to tell her that her songs helped him sleep as well, that he slept better when they were on the road if he talked to her on the phone before going to bed.

She deserved to hear all those things. But the words stuck in his throat, making him feel like a bumbling idiot. Words were his power on the job, and yet, when it came time to be honest with someone about how he felt, they failed him.

He came to a stop and tugged on her hand, turning her to face him. "It would seem I haven't gotten much better at the talking thing."

Cara gave him a soft smile, seeing the struggling in his eyes. Reaching up, she placed a gentle hand on his cheeks. "Aaron…"

Squeezing the hand that he was holding, he took a small step closer and leaned in, brushing his lips against hers. It was soft and quiet, but she didn't hesitate in returning it. Hotch pulled back slightly, telling himself that he had to say something, but her eyes were shining as she looked up at him, and he was moving in to kiss her again, the fingers of one hand tangling in her hair as he pulled her closer.

He was smiling when they pulled back again, unable to do anything else when he saw that Cara was grinning right back at him. Holding her, kissing her…he felt more right than he had in a very long time.

He still hadn't said anything, though. His thoughts jumbled and stuck in his throat again, and he let out a quiet sigh. Cara seemed to take pity on him, though, and she let out a quiet chuckle.

"Aaron, we don't have to talk this one to death. Breathe."

He took a deep breath, his smile turning rueful. "Sorry."

Cara shook her head, biting her bottom lip for a second. "I don't do things halfway," she said slowly. "And I don't think you do, either."

Somehow, both of his hands had found their place on her hips. "No," he agreed. "And I don't think I could with you, anyway."

"Good." She ran her fingers down the side of his face. "We can figure out the other stuff as we go along."

"There is one thing I need to say."

"Okay."

Hotch took a deep breath. "I'm in love with you."

Her grin was automatic and bright, and she reached up to hug him tightly. "That's a very good thing, Aaron Hotchner. Since you and your son have had my heart for quite a while now." They stayed like that for a minute, just enjoying the feel of the other. Slowly, Cara pulled back just far enough to meet his eyes. "Didn't you say you were gonna get me an ice cream cone?"

Hotch laughed at that, nodding. "I did indeed."

He turned and took her hand again, leading her back the way they had come. Jessie and Jack were back at the swings, and when Cara saw the expectant look in the other woman's eyes, she knew that Jessie had known what was going on. She gave a little nod, and Jessie smiled, nodding back.

"Do you think Jack is gonna be okay with this?" Cara asked, leaning closer to him.

Hotch smiled at his son as they got closer. Jack was grinning right back at him, and he waved excitedly at both of them.

"Trust me," he murmured, kissing her temple. "He'll be ecstatic."


End file.
